


Cracks in the Wall

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Drama, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-11-01
Updated: 2004-11-01
Packaged: 2019-05-30 13:43:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15097856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Sometimes, no matter how you try, cracks form in the wall.





	Cracks in the Wall

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Cracks in the Wall**

**by: Lori O**

**Character(s):** Sam  
**Pairing(s):** Sam/OFC  
**Category(s):** Drama  
**Rating:** YTEEN   
**Summary:** Sometimes, no matter how you try, cracks form in the wall.  


Chapter 1

(June, 2002)

Josh slowly walked down the hall from Leo's office toward his own. The words that had stunned everyone into silence echoed in his ears and added ten pounds of worry to him. He entered the bullpen and saw Donna sitting at her computer, busily working. Seeming to sense his presence she stood up to give him his messages, but stopped short when she saw the hard look in his eyes.

He walked past her without a word and slammed the door to his office. Collapsing wearily into his chair, he scrubbed his hand over his face before raking it through his hair. He closed his eyes, but was haunted by images from Leo's office so he quickly snapped them open. Josh knew what he had to do, and was surprised to see his hand tremble ever so slightly as he reached for the phone.

It was only after he sat there with the receiver in his hand that he realized he didn't know the number. His door opened silently and Donna hesitated for a second in the doorway before quickly crossing the room and sliding a note in front of him. Josh looked up and caught her eyes. She flashed a slight smile and then left, closing the door behind her. Glancing at the paper in front of him he took a deep breath as he slowly dialed the phone.

***************

"James, when we're done here, I want you to call Pete and follow up on the Pittsburgh thing for next week."

James nodded, as did the others in the room when they received their final instructions from the meeting. The phone rang and the assistant quietly picked it up so the others wouldn't be disturbed. The meeting ground to a halt when he interrupted.

"Kathleen, Josh Lyman is on the phone."

She flashed a gracious smile and answered, "Thanks, Nick, could you ask him to hold?"

The rest of the room blinked in surprise. Not many people put the White House Deputy Chief of Staff on hold. They barely had time to process what he might be calling about before Kathleen was rapid-firing off the remaining duties.

Finishing with the meeting and the assignments, she signed several papers Nick handed her. He eyed the blinking light on the phone warily, trying to hurry from her office. Kathleen calmly concluded her business and then asked Nick to hold her calls as she finally sat down in her chair.

"Hi, Josh," she said as she punched the hold button. "Sorry to keep you waiting. I was finishing up a meeting with my staff."

"That's alright," Josh said flatly. "Thanks for taking my call."

When Josh paused, Kathleen broke the silence. "What's up, Josh? I doubt you called me in the middle of the day to shoot the breeze."

"Has he stopped by your office?"

She paused for a moment, a little surprised by the question. "Sam? No, I wasn't planning on seeing him today. What? You mean he snuck away and you guys need him back?"

"No," Josh stammered. "We just...we just wondered if he'd shown up there."

"Well unless he was planning on surprising me by taking me out to lunch - which would be blown now by the way - we didn't have plans. Let me guess though, if he does show up I should send him back? What is it now, Josh? Another penny crises? A speech Toby needs him to write only so he an totally change it around or make another drop-in?"

On the other end of the line, Josh blinked at the harshness in her voice. "What? No. Is that what he thinks?"

Kathleen kept a bitter laugh from escaping. "Josh, I really don't think it's my place to tell you what your supposed best friend is thinking, but yeah, that's pretty close to how he feels."

"I had no idea," Josh breath, running his hand through his hair repeatedly. "Kathleen, if he shows up there, could you have him call me?"

She leaned forward in her chair and asked, "Josh, what's wrong? Did something happen that you're not telling me about?"

"Sam...Sam kinda lost it in Leo's office."

"What do you mean?" All caustic jabs were forgotten, replaced with worry bordering on dread. "Josh..."

"Sam kinda blew up at us all in Leo's office. Said some things I had no idea he was even feeling."

Kathleen bit back the retort that it was because he never asked, and let Josh continue.

"Then he stormed out of the office and the White House."

"Josh, why didn't you say this sooner? How long ago did this happen?"

"About half an hour ago, maybe a little more."

She took a deep breath, willing herself to stay calm. "Okay. Okay. Thanks, Josh."

"Kathleen?"

His voice stopped her attempt to hang up the phone. It was hollow and tinny, somehow detached from the normal Josh she knew.

"What are you going to do?" He sounded like a petulant child asking his parents if they were going to punish him.

"I'm going to look for him, Josh. I have an idea where he might be. A thought that bothers me considering it's been raining all day, so I really should get going." She almost said good-bye and then softened her tone. "I'll call you when I know something."

A breath whooshed out over the line and she heard, "Thank you, Kathleen."

The phone clicked softly into place, and then she turned and stared out the window. Rain was pelting the glass, hitting almost sideways before sliding down in large rivulets.

"Oh, Sam," she whispered. "What happened?"

********************

She found him in the first place she looked, and the absolute last place she wanted him to be. Sitting in the pouring rain, hair plastered to his head, his suit coat discarded to the side, his white shirt so wet it was translucent. He was staring blankly in front of him and didn't hear her as she crunched over the wet gravel with her shoes.

"Sam?" she said as she approached. She wasn't surprised when he didn't look up. Even when she knelt in front of him he continued to stare with unseeing eyes straight-ahead. Slowly she reached out and placed her hand on his knee.

"Sam?" she repeated, a little stronger this time.

Slowly he blinked and focused his eyes on her, recognition crossing his features. He tried to smile at her, but only succeeded in briefly raising the corners of his mouth.

"So, had a bit of a nutty today?" she asked. His eyes briefly flickered, with what she wasn't sure, but they hardened when she added that Josh had called her.

"Alright, sorry," she apologized. "We don't have to talk about them or what happened. Not until you want to. Right now I wanna get you home and out of this rain."

He made no effort to move as she stood up and so she reached down and tugged on his hand. "Come on, Sam. You're soaked to the skin, and you know how this place gives me the willies."

Sam raised one eyebrow at her and a half smile graced his face. "Sorry."

"Don't you dare apologize," she said with quiet firmness. "I know you claim it clears your head to come up here and think, but frankly I don't like standing this close to the edge of a building four stories up. I like my feet safely on the ground."

She took a step back, hoping he'd get up from the edge he was sitting on. He stood up, but didn't move forward. Kathleen didn't know which was worse; him sitting on the ledge surrounding the roof four stories up, or standing right beside it where if he took a step back he could trip and fall over the edge. It was time to play dirty.

Cocking her hip to the side she looked at him through her eyelashes and said, "Are you going to stand there in the rain all day, or are you going to follow me inside so you can get out of those wet clothes?"

He gave a brief hollow laugh and then walked toward her and wrapped his arm around her waist. Leaning against her he followed her to the stairwell door and out of the rain.

*****************

"Josh Lyman's office," Donna said answering the phone, then she paused. "One minute."

She looked up at Josh who was outside his office talking with Toby. "Josh, Kathleen's on the phone."

Josh looked at Toby and then hurried into his office closing the door behind him. When he opened the door several long minutes later, Donna and Toby were looking at him expectantly.

"She found him last night on top of his apartment building," Josh told them.

"Was he going to jump?" Donna gasped.

"No, no. Apparently he goes up there to think," Josh explained. "Claims it relaxes him."

"Josh," Toby grit out, wanting to get him back on track.

"Right. She got him inside, but he didn't want to talk. So she didn't push, she just stayed with him. This morning she woke up and he was packing. Said he was going to take his boat out."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Donna said.

"Kathleen felt the same way. She managed to convince him not to take his boat, but he made her drop him off at the airport."

"Did she say where he was going?" Toby asked.

"She doesn't know. He didn't know. He made her drop him off, and he was just going to take the first flight he could. To anywhere."

"You better tell Leo," Toby told him. "I better go figure out what his schedule was."

Toby walked off, leaving Josh with Donna.

"Josh?" she asked, mirroring his concerned look.

"I don't know Donna. I hope so. I gotta go talk to Leo."

Chapter 2

(December 2001)

"I should be in the Bahamas."

"I'm sorry?"

Sam looked up and half smiled before looking down and mumbling, "Never mind. Can I get another?"

The bartender looked at him skeptically. "There's no rush buddy. Maybe you should pace yourself."

Sam snapped his head up and glared at the man with icy eyes. "I think I'm the best judge of my own life. And right now I want another."

He watched the bartender refill his glass and then leave. Sam slumped down in his seat and drained half his glass in one swift gulp. Then he absently wiped the condensation from the glass as he rested his head against his other hand. Above the din of the bar he could hear the Christmas music playing and he wondered why two days after Christmas the bar would still be playing the carols. 'Maybe they play them 'til New Years.'

Taking another sip, he rubbed his forehead wearily. He was tired, but he certainly didn't want to go home yet. Too much was tumbling through his mind and he wanted the anonymity he enjoyed in a crowd of strangers. He didn't want to be alone, but he certainly didn't want to be among his friends. Friends? That was a laugh. Sam certainly didn't consider them his friends right now, mostly because they really weren't acting like friends.

Two days before Christmas he spent the day trying to help Josh get Congressman Gibson out of Leo's hearing. He worked all day, calling people, knowing it was to help Leo, but unable to tell them anything because HE didn't know anything. It was a feeling he was getting used to, but today it sucker-punched him in the jaw.

They had been in the Oval Office finishing up Senior Staff, or so he thought. The President asked if there was any more business and Leo said they'd gotten the final test results from the beef in Nebraska. Sam's eyes snapped to him in confusion. What tests? What beef? He didn't know anything about any such tests. Leo went on to explain that the results were definitely negative, but Sam was barely listening. He was too busy trying to figure out when this had happened. Finally, just before the meeting ended, he figured it out.

Sam gathered up his belongings and headed straight for his office. He could hear Josh behind him, but hoped he had enough head start and could out walk him. He just made it to his office when Josh bellowed.

"Sam, wait up!"

Never looking back, Sam shut the door and headed for his desk. He made a mental bet with himself if Josh would knock or not before just barging in. He wasn't sure if he won or lost when Josh flung the door open without so much as a tap. 'So much for privacy.'

"Sam buddy, didn't you hear me calling for you?"

Sam gave a non-committal grunt and flipped open his laptop. He didn't have work to do; he just wanted Josh to leave. 'The seatbelt lawsuit. I was doing the seatbelt lawsuit and they were dealing with Mad Cow.'

"Buddy, are you listening?"

Sam looked up and blinked. Josh had obviously just said something and was expecting him to answer.

"Huh?"

"I said do you wanna grab some dinner if we get out of here early? Or should we have Donna order us something?"

'Eat? I've been eating beef all this time and it could have been contaminated and you want to grab something to eat?'

"That's what I should have said," Sam muttered to himself. The waitress glanced at him strangely, but Sam didn't see it.

Instead Sam had swallowed the retort and said he wasn't hungry and he had work to do. Both were lies, and he felt a little bad lying to Josh, but then he remembered that Josh had been lying to him. He'd been calling him 'buddy' but his behavior lately certainly wasn't that of a friend. Keeping things from your co-workers, things they should have known about, wasn't how a friend was supposed to act.

So Sam pretended to work for a while, but he really was keeping an eye on the bullpen. When it looked empty, meaning Bonnie and Ginger were gone, and he'd seen Toby walk by, he gathered up his stuff and left. He didn't tell anyone he was going, didn't turn off his light or close his door; he just left and wondered how long it would be until someone came looking for him. Would they think he was just out of his office, when would they realize he wasn't coming back, would they call his cell trying to track him down?

He really didn't care as he walked out of the west wing and headed for his car. Getting in he drove, not caring where he went until the rumble of his stomach became too much to ignore. Spotting a pub he pulled over and went inside. He fully intended to get something to eat, but now it appeared he was just going to drink his dinner. It also appeared to be going straight through him, in addition to going straight to his head.

He slid to his feet and steadied himself, then turned to head to the men's room. Instead he turned and nearly bowled a woman over.

"Whoa. Easy there, sailor," she said as she reached out to steady him. "Got your land legs now?"

"Yeah, sorry," Sam mumbled and headed once again off to the bathroom.

~*~*~

She looked up when he dropped unceremoniously into the chair across from her. He seemed to be having a hard time focusing, but a smile that could have powered New York was fixed on her.

"Forget where you were sitting, sailor?" she asked with a chuckle.

A shake of his head, "No, no, excuse me."

Taking a sip of her drink she watched him head to the bar, grab his coat, get another drink and weave his way back through the crowd to her table. He dropped into the chair again, with considerable less grace than before and turned on the smile once more. She merely regarded him with raised eyebrows over the rim of her glass.

"Mind if I join you?"

"No, not at all," she smiled back. He was pretty far into his cups and she wasn't sure it would register if she objected.

"I'm Sam," he said by way of introduction.

"Kathleen," she responded. She knew who he was. She watched Capitol Beat and the other weekly talk shows, but apparently tonight he just wanted to be 'Sam.' Not Sam Seaborn who worked for the White House.

"So, what do you do?"

She kept a straight face, barely. She wasn't sure if it was a pick up line or if he was hoping she wouldn't figure out who he was.

"I'm a lawyer."

He smiled in what looked almost like relief. Apparently she'd won the prize by not saying politics, because the smile continued to grow. It wasn't really a lie she figured. She was a lawyer, not a politician, but nobody could work in DC without getting his fingers a little wet in the political game.

"I used to be a lawyer, but now I...advise."

She merely smiled and nodded and hoped it wouldn't show that she knew he advised the President of the United States. Silence hung between them and he shifted uncomfortably before swallowing a huge gulp of his drink.

"Are you hungry?" she asked. "I'm starving and I hate eating alone."

The smile returned. "Dinner sounds great. What's good here?"

~*~*~

Halfway through the ham and melted swiss sandwich, his cell phone rang. Wiping his hands, he fished the phone out of his coat pocket and hit the talk button.

"Se-Sam."

"Buddy, where are you?" Josh asked. "We've been looking for you for the last twenty minutes. Nobody knew you were gone.""

"I've been gone for..." he squinted down at his watch and finally just gave up and guessed, "two hours. You just noticed I was gone twenty minutes ago?"

He glanced at Kathleen who appeared to be studying the tabletop intently in between bites of her sandwich. He knew the bitterness was creeping into his voice and he tried to keep it out. Listening to Josh continue on he rolled his eyes and looked at her apologetically. Covering the mouthpiece he mouthed, 'I'm sorry. Office.'

She shrugged her shoulders and smiled at him as she whispered, "It's okay."

"Huh?" Sam asked when he realized Josh had stopped talking.

"I said where are you? It sounds pretty loud behind you."

"I'm at a bar having dinner with Kathleen."

"Who's Kathleen?"

"A nice lady I met. She and I bumped into each other."

"Sam," Josh said hesitantly. "Don't do anything stupid okay? Remember what happened the last time you picked up a woman in a bar?"

Sam turned his head away from the table and hissed out, "Yes."

"Well, all I'm saying is with everything goin' on right now, we don't need another scandal to deal with."

Sam sat and seethed for a full minute before clipping out. "Thank you, Josh, for your astounding confidence in my abilities. I am not that stupid."

Then he snapped the phone shut and polished off the rest of his drink. He waived the waitress over and ordered a double before he finally glanced at Kathleen. Kathleen just sat there in silence, shifting uncomfortably in her chair.

~*~*~

"Farewell Spanish ladies, farewell..." Sam paused his slurred singing, seeming to search for the words to come next. With a drunken hiccup and a shrug of his shoulders he gave up and launched into the first line yet again.

"Alright, Sailor," Kathleen said with a laugh. "I think it's time to end this party. Come on."

Putting on her coat, she grabbed his and after a few unsuccessful attempts his arms finally slipped into the sleeves. Walking outside, Kathleen grabbed a hold of Sam as he veered off suddenly to the side.

"Whoa, Sam," she said as she paused to think. "Do you remember where you live? You're clearly in no condition to drive and I'll call you a cab if you want, but I want to make sure you get home safe."

She turned her head to look at him and discovered he was doing a great impression of being asleep on his feet. "Sam?"

"Huh?" he asked as his head rolled to the side.

"Where do you live?"

"My house?"

"Well, that's a good guess, but where's your house?"

A shrug of his shoulders. "Dunno."

"Alright, Sam," Kathleen said. "Come with me. It's too cold to stand here trying to figure out where you live."

She took his arm and directed him toward her car as he half stumbled. Getting him seated, she then climbed in and started the car. They drove in silence until at a stoplight Sam suddenly began mumbling.

"They didn't tell me."

"What?" she asked, startled by the sudden break of silence. She almost thought he'd fallen asleep.

"They didn't tell me. Once again I wasn't in the loop."

She turned her head and saw him lean his against the window. He looked exhausted and deflated, but she really didn't know what to say. 'I'm sorry' seemed futile, or even pitiful, considering he had no idea what he was talking about.

"We're almost there," she finally decided on. "I think you just need to get some sleep."

When she first saw him in the bar, she never envisioned this scenario for the end of the evening. Dinner, drinks, maybe exchanging phone numbers, maybe more depending on the evening, but certainly not taking him home so he could sleep off a bender. Finally reaching her apartment building, she parked the car and helped Sam out. After she managed to get him upstairs and inside, she led him over to the couch where he collapsed in a rumpled heap. His head rested on the cushions, his eyes half closed, and she was sure it was sure will power and possibly habit that was keeping him awake.

After getting ready for bed Kathleen went back to the living room. Sam was exactly where she'd left him, in a heap on her couch. He looked small, curled up in a ball, swallowed by the large leather sofa. "Sam?"

He barely managed to open one eye.

"You wanna take off your jacket? Maybe your shoes or something? The bathroom's free if you want it."

Sam headed off to the bathroom and Kathleen flipped on the TV, surfing through the channels just to waste time until Sam came out.

~*~*~

About five in the morning, Sam's internal clock, aided by the need to go to the bathroom, woke him up. He blinked his eyes, searching for his clock to check the time. Looking to the left where it would normally be he was confused when it wasn't there but on the right side of the bed. Slowly he realized the numbers were red and the numbers on his clock were green.

Slowly Sam slipped out of bed and searched for a door. After first opening the closet door and then stumbling into what he could only assume was a dresser given its enormous size, he finally found the bathroom. He flipped on the light and blinked in the harsh glare. Definitely not his bathroom, definitely a woman's.

Pieces of the night before filtered into his mind. Being left out of the discussion on mad cow...finding out yesterday...leaving the White House...the bar...the woman...the phone call from Josh. Josh, his friend, his 'buddy' who had lectured and warned him not to do something stupid and create another scandal. He groaned and closed his eyes, leaning over to rest his arms on the counter.

"Oh no, not again."

Chapter 3

Sam raced into the White House and headed for his office. He wanted to get his spare suit and grab a shower before anyone saw him. When he left Kathleen's apartment and caught a cab, he'd nervously looked around checking for lurking photographers or rabid Republican henchmen. Republican henchmen? He was becoming as paranoid and jaded as Josh or Toby.

"Sam?"

He ground to a halt outside his boss's office and looked over. "Toby."

"What are you doing?"

"Gonna grab my spare suit and a shower."

"Yeah, what did you do, sleep in that?" Toby asked as he gestured to the rumpled suit the younger man was wearing.

"No, just didn't hang it up last night," Sam replied as he headed into his office.

Getting up to follow, Toby asked, "If you didn't hang it up, then why'd you put it back on this morning?"

The last words slowly came out as a thought came to him. "Josh was right to be worried. You went home with that lady in the bar last night, didn't you?"

He stood in the doorway of Sam's office and watched as his deputy grabbed his spare clothes. Sam avoided Toby's glare until he'd collected all his things and was ready to leave.

"Sam, how big of a scandal is this going to be? Who is she? Did anyone see you go to or leave her place?"

"You know what, Toby, give me some credit. I got this last night from Josh. I really don't need it from you."

"Got what from me?" Josh asked, appearing at Toby's side.

"Sam went home with that woman from the bar last night."

"Oh man. Did anyone see them together? Anyone see him leave her place?"

"He didn't say," Toby answered.

"Does he know what she does for a living? This isn't going to be another Laurie incident, is it?"

Sam stood there, the grandfather headaches of all headaches forming because of a hangover and his two co-workers talking about him like he wasn't even there. He had flashbacks to Leo and Bruno arguing over his abilities before the Victor Campos meeting. All this combined with his anger and resentment over the beef incident until he just had to speak up.

"You know, you could just ask 'him,'" he said, frustration quite evident in his voice. " _Reader's Digest_ version of the story. Her name is Kathleen, she's a lawyer, and she took me back to her place when I was too drunk to remember where I lived. I fell asleep; when I woke up and went to leave this morning she was asleep on the couch. Nobody saw me leave her place."

Sam shouldered his way past them out of his office and then turned around. His voice dipped dangerously low as he spoke, "You know why I was at a bar last night? Because yesterday I discovered that while you two, C.J. and Leo were advising the President on Mad Cow, I was running around like Chicken Little on the seatbelt lawsuit. Did it ever occur to you guys that I wasn't there? That as a member of Senior Staff and a Domestic Policy Advisor that I maybe 'should' have been there? Or was it a conscious decision to once again keep me out of the loop?"

He turned and stalked off, passing by C.J. who stared at him and then Josh and Toby. She walked up to them, her eyebrows raised in question.

"What was that all about?"

"Who knows," Toby growled. "I think he's just mad Josh and I asked him if anyone saw him leave some lady's apartment. I mean the last thing we need is another scandal involving him and some woman he picked up in a bar. C.J., check the wires, make sure nothing's been picked up."

He turned and stormed into his office, slamming the door behind him. C.J. and Josh exchanged concerned looks, but then Josh shrugged his shoulders and walked off, leaving her behind.

~*~*~

Sam sat in his office, desperately craving coffee, but not daring to even think about it. His stomach was churning this morning, aided in part by the alcohol from last night and his building anger and resentment. The door to his office was closed, so he pulled open his bottom desk drawer.

Late nights, too much caffeine, poor eating habits and stress caused everybody to have a vast assortment of antacids. The bottles in Sam's drawer were different though. He pulled out several bottles, shook out the various pills he needed and replaced the lids. He popped the pills into his mouth and took a drink from the bottle of water sitting on his desk. 

"Hey there, Spanky," C.J. said, breezing into Sam's office.

Sam finished swallowing the pills and shot her a glare. She eyed the bottles on his desk and he quickly swept them into his desk and kicked the drawer shut.

"Doesn't anyone knock anymore?" he snapped under his breath.

"What?"

Sam smiled, and much more cheerfully than he felt said, "Nothing. What can I do for you, C.J.?"

Sitting down in one of his visitor's chairs, she replied, "I don't need anything. I came to see how you were doing. I saw that scene outside your office."

"Yeah, that was really no big deal. I was tired, hung over and didn't really mean it. I'll talk to them later."

Sam hoped his smile and casual tone would be enough to calm C.J.'s worries. He really didn't want to get into this, and besides, they probably had good reasons for not bringing him on Mad Cow. And the whole thing with the lady from the bar - no, Kathleen. She had a name and he wasn't going to let them do what they did with Laurie, never use her actual name. He didn't do anything wrong last night and he refused to let them make him feel like he did. He was mad that they'd treated him like a child that they couldn't trust and then had to scold, but he didn't want to rock the boat.

"I'm fine, C.J., really."

"You sure?" she asked. Sam nodded.

"Alright, you wanna grab a bite to eat? You probably didn't get breakfast."

"When do any of us ever really get breakfast?" he asked with a shrug. "I'm not really hungry right now, but I'll probably grab something later."

"Sam, you sure you're alright?" she asked again. He seemed to be saying all the right things, but there was something just 'off' about him. Maybe the blow up outside his office really just was from being tired and hung over. He really seemed to be back to normal now, especially with him leaning casually back in his chair.

"Yeah, I'm fine, really. Just, you know - the stress of the hearings coming up, and now we're gearing up for the State of the Union. I actually have some meetings later, so I better get ready for them."

He picked up his glasses and put them on before turning to a large stack of papers on his desk. C.J. almost had the feeling she was being dismissed, but brushed it aside. Sam and Toby were always incredibly busy in January, and now it seemed to be creeping into December. It was a huge speech with a lot of different groups clamoring for their agendas to be addressed.

"Okay," she said, getting up. "I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah," he replied, his head already buried in the work on his desk.

As she pulled the door mostly closed behind her, Sam glanced up and then took off his glasses. His stomach was really churning now, and a sharp pain stabbed at his insides. He didn't have time to wait for the pills to kick in, he needed relief now. If he was going to get through the rest of the day; meetings with people over the State of the Union, working on the address itself, and most of all dealing with Josh and Toby, he had to be on top of his game. He couldn't do that with this burning pain in his stomach, so he grabbed the bottle of Pepto off the bookshelf and unscrewed the cap. Taking a quick swig, he put the cap back on and returned to his desk.

He just had to convince Josh and Toby he was all right and that he hadn't really meant what he'd said earlier. The best way to convince them would be to just throw himself into his work, do his job, anticipate their questions and be prepared for them. Sure, he'd apologize, just to convince them there were no hard feelings on his part, and things would return to status quo. It was what he was expected to do, just take their abuse in silence and quickly apologize for the occasional outburst.

Things ran so much easier when everyone stuck to their prescribed roles. He stood up for idealism and the little people while everyone else pretended to listen to him and indulged his flights of fancy. Only now, it appeared he was the only one sticking to the script. The others were covering their annoyance less, and he was slowly being edged out of the inner circle. Apparently they were fine with the changing roles, so it was up to him to dutifully play catch up.

It really worked better for everyone this way. If Sam just went with the flow and didn't rock the boat too often, things just went smoother. Smoother for everyone except Sam, but he really figured that was his own fault. Nobody else was complaining so he really shouldn't either.

In the meantime, he would just have to hope he didn't need to go back to the doctor until the end of January since he couldn't take the time out of his schedule. He hoped that this time the triple therapy would do the job. Last time his doctor recommended he try the quadruple therapy, but he didn't have time to spend in the doctor's office right now for the necessary tests for the new regimen. He'd barely managed to convince Dr. McCloud to call in the prescriptions without him needing to go in for tests this time. The only way he'd pulled it off was by telling the doctor he was going out of the country and the symptoms were the same as the last time.

He noted with satisfaction that the sharp pain seemed to finally be subsiding, fading into the dull ache he'd learned he could live with. As long as the pain didn't remain severe he could cope. Writing a little note to himself to remember to eat lunch since his appetite had fallen off lately, he flipped open his laptop and made a few notes to have with him for his 9:30 meeting.

Chapter 4 

"Sam? Sam?"

"Huh?" he asked, jerking his head up off his desk. Ginger was standing in front of him, holding a stack of folders and papers in her arms. He blinked wearily and swiped at the sleep remnants in his eyes.

"You sleep here again?" she asked sympathetically.

"Well, I did tell the President the other night I slept here in January," he said with a small chuckle. "What time is it?"

"Almost 6:30."

"Toby in yet?" he asked, sitting up straighter and stretching the knots out in his back.

"Not yet, though I'm sure he will be soon."

"Alright, I'm gonna change my shirt and get to work."

"Okay," she said turning for the door and then stopping. Turning back around she said, "I almost forgot. Here's your mail and folders for today's meetings. Your schedule for the day is on top."

"Thanks, Ginger," Sam said as he stood up. He headed for his supply of fresh shirts and pulled a light blue one off the hanger.

"Sure thing, Sam. You want some coffee or anything?"

Sam grimaced as the mention of coffee and remembered he needed to take his pills for the day. Turning around with a grateful smile he said, "Not right now, thanks though. Are there any bagels or anything out there?"

"I'll get you one from the mess, you change your shirt."

"Thanks, Ginger."

Giving a slight nod, she headed out of his office and closed the door behind her. Sam quickly changed his shirt and sat down at his desk as he finished tying his tie. He glanced at his schedule for the day and then started in on the papers underneath.

Picking up a large envelope addressed to him, he glanced at the return address before slitting it open. He reached in and felt a folded up piece of cloth. Puzzled, he pulled it out and recognized it as his scarf that he lost several days ago. Tipping the envelope upside down and shaking it, he managed to dislodge a piece of paper inside. Dropping the scarf and the envelope he picked up the paper and then groaned and dropped his head into his hands.

A soft tap at his door brought his head up. Ginger opened the door and brought a bagel and a bottle of juice over to him.

"You sure you don't want some coffee?" she asked.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Thanks for the juice."

"Alright. Toby's in, wants to see you in five."

"Thanks, Ginger. Tell him I'll be right over."

She told him she would and left. Once she was gone, Sam hurriedly opened his bottom drawer and got out the pill bottles. He swallowed the necessary pills and then absentmindedly took a bite of the bagel as he picked up the note. He couldn't believe this was going to come back to haunt him now.

Everyone was still giving him odd glances because of their perceptions about his reaction to the book. Maybe everyone felt like C.J., that he was obsessing over the knucklehead things because he couldn't fix the big thing. Maybe he was just obsessing over the knucklehead stuff because that's all he was being given lately. Or was he only being given the small stuff because he was obsessing over it? Sam shook his head bitterly. This wasn't time for a 'Catch 22' debate over his past assignments.

Maybe he couldn't think rationally about what C.J. said because he still couldn't get over her laughable claim that she and Toby were out of the loop as much as he was. Yes, there were times when not everyone was in the loop, but there was no way she was out of the loop as often as he seemed to be. He was the last to find out about the President's MS, thank you very much Toby, and just last week he'd learned he was kept out of the discussion on Mad Cow. So Sam just couldn't help himself if her claim didn't carry much weight at the moment.

He was standing up for what he thought was right and important, not what just gave the biggest political payoff or was most convenient. It was like he told the President, 'I don't think it's a good idea to be casual about the truth.' He was doing his part to ensure that they didn't have any unnecessary encumbrances around their neck during the campaign. Because the book was just the sort of thing Leno and Letterman would pick up and run with, making them look like idiots. With censure and the President having MS, this campaign was already starting out in a hole.

He swept the scarf and note into a drawer and then grabbed the folders containing the data he knew Toby would want to go over. After all the grief Josh and Toby had given him, he just couldn't tell them about this. They would merely see it as justification for their concern. C.J. always said she was their first call, but he wasn't running to her because he could handle this. Plus, he was still bothered by her insisting he do the profile with _Vanity Fair_. 

"Toby, you wanted to see me?" he asked, stepping through the doorway.

"Yeah, how are you doing with the economy stuff?"

~*~*~

Sam walked into the lobby of the building and headed toward the directory. Finding the company name and the floor it was on, he headed toward the elevator bank and pressed the up button. On the ninth floor, he paused and looked around for the right suite. Then he turned left and headed through the double doors of the suite.

The receptionist looked up at him as he walked in and asked, "May I help you?"

"Yes, is Kathleen Donavon in?"

"Do you have an appointment?" she asked.

"No, I was hoping I could catch her, just talk to her for a minute."

"Okay, let me call her office and see if she has a moment. Whom should I say is here?"

"Sam."

The receptionist was getting a little annoyed at his reluctance and asked "Just Sam? She's supposed to know who you are?"

"Yeah. Just Sam, and she'll know."

He stood by her desk as she picked up the phone and dialed the number. "Hey, Nick, does Kathleen have a minute? There's some guy by the name of Sam who was hoping he could talk to her...Yeah, just Sam. Said she would know who he was...Okay, thanks."

She hung up the phone and turned to Sam. "Her assistant is going to see if she's available. Why don't you have a seat?"

Sam looked over at the chairs she indicated to and walked over to them, but he was too agitated to sit down. He slowly paced back and forth and ignored the looks the receptionist sent his way. He only halfway listened as she would answer the phone and put the caller through to whomever they asked for. It was enough for him to be convinced that it was a legitimate place, but it did nothing to ease Sam's worry.

He sat down, but then stood right back up and resumed his pacing. He looked over at the receptionist, ready to ask her to call Kathleen's office again, but she was on the phone. Slowly he sank into one of the padded chairs and leaned his head back.

"Sam?"

He opened his eyes and saw her standing there.

"Kathleen?"

"Yeah, sorry you had to wait, I had to finish up a call to Boston. Do you want to come back?"

Silently, Sam followed behind her as she wove her way through the corridors. When they reached her office she asked Nick to hold her calls and then directed him inside. Closing the door, she walked towards her desk and then leaned against the front.

"I see you got my package," she said, gesturing to his scarf. "Sorry it took me several days to get it back to you. It had fallen partly under my couch. I didn't find it 'til I was cleaning up and taking down my decorations."

Sam just stood there, arms folded across his chest, listening to her casually talk. How could she? She was acting like it was no big deal, like she'd done nothing wrong.

"You knew who I was."

A bit of a sheepish smile crept across her lips. "Yeah, I did. You didn't seem to want others to know, so I played along. I'm sorry."

"You lied to me," he said flatly, but with steel in his voice.

"No more than you did to me," she replied, somewhat taken aback.

"When did I lie to you?" he asked in surprise.

She pushed off the desk and slowly walked around it, stopping near her chair. Turning to face him, she mirrored his stance by crossing her arms across her body. Sam knew the tactic. Gain time and power by delaying and then speaking from behind a desk to covey power. Casually sitting down coveys annoyance and indifference toward the other party, but he noted that she remained standing.

"You told me you _advised_. I think we both know you do more than that," Kathleen answered. "You write speeches for the President of the United States and advise _him._ You understated your importance and I went along with it. I apologize for not exposing you right there in the bar."

"You said you were just a lawyer."

"I am just a lawyer. Look around you. This isn't a lobby group or a think tank. I practice law. But you're a fool if you think I don't know who the top people are in an administration. I watch the news, the Sunday talk shows and Capitol Beat. Nobody can work or live in this town without knowing who the people in power are."

"So this about connecting yourself to power?" he scoffed.

"What? No, I don't care about that, 'cause frankly I'm known in my own right."

"I don't know who you are," he said with a half sneer.

"Well, that's because you're not in corporate law anymore and haven't been for over four years. I didn't work in New York, but did you know every lawyer in New York when you worked there?"

"No."

"Well, there you go," she said with a wave of her hand.

Sam walked forward and sat down in one of the chairs in front of her desk. "So, what is this about?"

"A guy and a girl who met in a bar. You left your scarf, and I returned it. There's no deep, ulterior motive. I'm not running off to the tabloids screaming, 'I picked up Sam Seaborn in a bar and took him home.' You looked lost and like you needed somebody. You seemed a little out of sorts and angry with your friends."

She sat down in her chair and looked across her desk at him. Sam stared back at Kathleen, searching her face for clues to what he might have said that night. Not just what he might have said, but how much he might have said.

"Kathleen, what...what did I say that night?" he asked, losing a measure of the hostility. A flash of vulnerability skittered across his face and Kathleen understood his fear that he went too far that night.

"You didn't say anything damaging. You kept it inside at the bar, trying to drown whatever was bothering you. As I was driving you home you said they didn't tell you, that you weren't kept in the loop."

She paused and leaned forward, resting her arms on her desk. "That's it. I swear. I have no idea what you were talking about. So if you were worried about me talking to a reporter, what would I tell them? I deal with facts, not hearsay or speculation."

"A lawyer with scruples?" Sam scoffed.

"Yeah," she answered with a hollow laugh, "the bar's threatening to take away my license. Look, Sam, I don't know where this hostility is coming from. I found your scarf, I sent it back to you-"

"With a note."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, with a note. Know why? I enjoyed dinner with you. I wouldn't mind doing it again, minus the alcohol. Stop treating me like whoever burned you in the past."

"I gotta get back to work," he said abruptly.

"Do whatever you gotta do," she told him, finality ringing in her voice.

He stood up and headed for the door. His hand was on the handle when Kathleen spoke.

"You're welcome, Sam," she said, sarcasm heavy in her words. "It was no problem driving you home or sending your scarf back. No need, whatsoever, to thank me."

Then she grabbed a file and a pen and started making notes on her legal pad.

"Yeah," Sam said and walked out of the office not bothering to close the door behind him.

Chapter 5 

Sam's alarm clock went off and an arm snaked out of the covers and fumbled for the snooze button. Nine minutes later, the shrill beep echoed through the quiet bedroom once again. A groan emanated somewhere from the jumble of sheets and blankets and once more an arm reached for the snooze button. Exactly nine minutes later muffled curses joined the piercing beep. The covers flew off the bed and Sam reached out and forcefully turned off the alarm. He rolled to his side and squinted at the numbers on the clock. 

"I could call in sick," he muttered to himself. "I should just call in sick."

After contemplating the notion for a few minutes, he finally got out of bed and trudged to the bathroom. He turned on the shower and as he waited for the water to heat up, he opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed the small pill bottle. He shook out a pill and dry-swallowed it, then counted the remaining pills. Time to call in for a refill. A brief check of the bottle made him grumble when he realized there were no refills left. 

As he climbed into the shower, he thought ahead to the upcoming things at work. The State of the Union was over, and Lisa was thankfully gone as well. Sam was glad that he'd at least finished the triple therapy the week before the speech. That many pills, that often during the day and she would know something was up. Their interactions were strained enough; he was glad she wouldn't at least know about the flare up to hold over his head.

Finished with his shower, he figured that sometime during the week he could find an hour or two to slip away to go to the doctor. There were a few small speeches coming up, but they were on top of them. He would call today and make the appointment. It was a Monday, how badly could the nation have fallen apart in the half a day since he'd been at the White House?

~*~*~

"Morning, Sam."

"Morning, C.J.," he said heading into his office and hanging up his coat.

"So, how are things going with the new reporter?"

"The reporter that's been here for over a week?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. "Fine."

"Fine?" C.J. asked, waiting for elaboration.

"Yeah, fine." He sat down at his desk and turned on his laptop. Looking up at C.J. who was still standing inside his doorway he asked, "Do you need something?"

"How are you doing?" she asked, coming in to sit down. "You seemed pretty down after the speech. I know you felt bad about not putting in the section on cancer."

Sam turned his chair and looked out the window, trying to hide the pain in his eyes. That night still hurt and it was hard to pretend otherwise. He believed that government _should_ be overreaching and that the cancer funding was a plan worthy of attempting. He poured his heart into that section, all the while knowing he would tell the president they couldn't include it. He knew it and he understood it, but he wasn't sure that part of him would ever really accept it. When he read the section to Lisa, he had a mixture of pride that the words were finally being heard, embarrassment that he felt such excitement at that fact, especially because he wrote it, and defeat that he didn't have the same feeling toward the rest of the speech. It got the job done, and that's he felt.

"It was a big night, I was worried about the numbers, I was just tired," he finally said. Even as he said the words, he didn't believe them and suspected C.J. didn't either.

Apparently she was willing to play along though. "Okay. So the new reporter is working out?"

Sam merely nodded his head and C.J. stood and headed for the door. He turned back to his laptop and the files for the upcoming speeches.

"Say, listen. Do you wanna grab some lunch later on?" she asked, trying a new tactic to reach him.

He shook his head, "Sorry. Got an appointment at lunch. Take a raincheck?"

"Sure," she smiled at him. "So the speech on Friday, I'm getting some questions from the press. How soon 'til I can get a copy?"

Sam took off his glasses with a stifled sigh and dropped them on his desk. "Toby and I still have two days. Maybe we'll have something by tomorrow, maybe not 'til Friday."

"Okay, yeah. Thanks," she said and left his office.

Sam watched her go and heaved out a breath. "What does she want from me?"

~*~*~

"Bonnie?" Sam called out as he sat in his office gathering up some notes.

"Yeah, Sam," she said walking in.

"I'm heading out for my appointment. I told Toby this morning, but just remind him when he gets back from the Hill. Also, tell him that the latest draft for Friday's speech is on his desk and I'll make any changes when I get back."

"How long will you be?" she asked as she watched him grab his coat and put it on.

"An hour," he said with a shrug. "No more than two."

"Will he be able to reach you?"

"No, I'll have my pager and my phone, but won't be able to answer them."

"Then why are you taking them?" she asked with a chuckle.

"Because I had them surgically attached," he said with a small laugh as well. "It's a doctor's appointment. I'm just taking some files with me to work on while I wait."

"Everything alright, Sam?" she asked as she handed him the files from his desk as he stopped in the doorway, almost forgetting to take them with him.

"Thanks," he said taking the files. "Yeah, everything's fine. Just a check-up, nothing big."

"Okay. Bye, Sam." She stood in his office as he walked off, then she called out. "Sam, wait, you dropped your scarf."

He stopped in the bullpen and turned around. "What did you say?"

"I said you dropped your scarf."

"Thanks," he said absentmindedly as he took it from her and draped it around his neck. He looked at his office and then at the door and then back to his office. Without a word he walked into his office, opened a drawer, grabbed a piece of paper and shoved it in his pocket. He closed the drawer and then brushed past Bonnie, who was just standing there watching him, and walked out of the bullpen.

An hour later, Sam sat waiting in the exam room for the doctor to come back. Dr. McCloud had given him an exam and ordered tests he'd have to go later and get done. They'd discussed his current treatment and his most recent flare-up over the holidays.

"Well, Sam," Dr. McCloud said, coming back into the room. "The urea breath test shows that the bacteria has cleared up again. Any that might be left aren't enough to show up, or cause problems right now. What I'd like to talk to you about is your diet."

"But diet doesn't have any real impact on them," Sam interrupted.

"It doesn't have anything to do with your ulcers, Sam. However, you've lost weight and your diet needs to be better. You said during the last flare-up, your appetite was less than it had been in the past."

Sam just shrugged. "Yeah. It was just a busy time."

"Alright. Well, I'm not going to lecture you. You know what you need to do when you have them, but just remember, the symptoms will be worse if you don't eat."

"I know," Sam nodded his head.

The doctor gave a reassuring smile and said, "Then here's your prescription, and be sure to read the stuff I gave you on the quadruple therapy. I'd like you to think about it for the next time. It wouldn't be much different. You normally take an acid suppressor, it's just we'll now be adding a stomach protector to that and the anti-biotics you take during a flare-up."

"Yeah," Sam agreed and collected his things and then left the office. He put the prescription in his pocket and his hand brushed up against the note he'd grabbed from his desk drawer. Stopping, he pulled the note out and unfolded it. He read it over a few times, though he nearly had it memorized, and finally took out his cell phone and dialed.

~*~*~

"Kathleen, Sam Seaborn's on the phone."

She looked up from her work in surprise. "Thanks, Nick."

Clearing her throat she picked up the phone. "Kathleen Donovan."

"Hi, Kathleen. It's Sam."

"Yeah, what can I do for you, Sam?"

Sam took a breath. "Well, it occurs to me I never thanked you for that night in the bar."

"Yeah," she replied.

"And I was out of line that day in your office and should apologize for that."

He fell silent and finally Kathleen spoke, "That was it?"

"What?" he asked.

"That was your thanks and your apology? You say you never thanked me and you should apologize. So, do so. Don't just talk about it."

"I'm sorry," Sam said. "I am. I was out of line. And thank you for giving me a place to sleep that night."

"You're welcome," she told him. "But you ever randomly accuse me of things again..."

"Alright," he interrupted. "Point taken. So let me make it up to you."

"What?" Kathleen asked in surprise.

"How 'bout dinner? Say maybe Friday?"

"I'm sorry. Friday's no good for me."

"Okay, how 'bout Saturday?"

"Sam, let me finish here. I'm going to North Carolina this weekend. So the rest of this week is shot because I'm working late so I can take off."

"Oh, okay," he said quietly.

"But next week would work."

Sam's shoulders dropped with a bit of relief that after slamming the door in his face, she'd opened it back up a crack. "Alright then, I'll give you a call?"

"Sure," she said and he could almost hear her smile through the phone.

"Okay. And hey, have a good trip."

"Thanks, Sam. I gotta go. Guess I'll talk to you sometime next week."

"Sure, bye."

He clicked off his phone and glanced down at his watch. Toby was probably having a fit that he wasn't back yet. He was probably yelling at everyone within earshot that the speech Sam had written was crap and then would probably be harassing Bonnie, asking when Sam would be back. As if by the sheer fact of yelling at others Toby could somehow make Sam appear. It was time to get back to work.

Walking into the bullpen, Sam could hear Toby yelling from inside his office. Bonnie walked out and saw Sam.

"He's back," she said over her shoulder, and then gave Sam a grateful smile.

Toby walked out of his office, papers held in his hand. "You need to fix this and get it to the President by five. Which means I need to see it by four."

Sam barely had the papers in his hand before Toby turned on his heel and headed back into his office.

"Sure," he said to no one in particular and then walked into his office while glancing at the papers. There were marks all over them. 'Can't say this.' 'Too broad. Tighten it up.' And whole sections were marked out with 'Do over' written to the side.

Sam dropped his coat into one of his visitor chairs and sat down at his desk. He opened up his laptop and put the speech beside it on the desk.

"Sure," Sam said softly. "'Cause I'm just the guy who does the thing. Right, Toby?"

Chapter 6 

Sam walked aimlessly down the halls after he left C.J.'s office, stopping only when he realized he was outside Josh's office. The office was dark, but Donna was sitting at her desk flipping through books and scribbling things down furiously.

"Donna?"

She looked up, pausing writing for just a moment. "Hey, Sam."

"Josh not in?" Even though the office was dark, he asked the question anyway.

"No. He left to go work on something for Amy. Apparently their trip has been postponed. Get this, I'm supposed to call her and send her over to his place in twenty minutes."

"He's making you stay late just to call Amy?"

"No, I'm looking through his law books trying to figure out a way to get out of jury duty tomorrow."

"You might just have to serve, Donna," he told her. 

"Yeah, I know. That's what Josh said," she responded.

"Okay, well...good luck with that," he told her as he turned to go.

He didn't hear her say good-bye. His mind was already racing a hundred miles an hour. Josh was off planning something for Amy. In hindsight, Sam wondered where else he expected Josh to be. If Josh wasn't at the office he was with Amy, or trying to be with Amy. And even _at_ the office, all he could seem to talk about was Amy. Sam had tried to talk to him about Vieques, and then later about Bob, the UFO guy, but both times Josh blew him off and brought the conversation back to Amy. Just like always.

Yeah, his friend was enamored, Josh even used the word ensorcelled several times, but that didn't mean Sam didn't have things he wanted to talk about. Sam stopped in the bullpen outside his office. Toby wasn't in his office; probably he was still in C.J.'s talking about whatever it was they were discussing before Sam walked in. He walked into his office and sat down softly in his chair. Opening a drawer, he took out a familiar piece of paper and opened it up. Then he grabbed the phone and quickly punched in the numbers as he checked the clock on his desk.

After the phone rang long enough for him to realize no one would answer; he hung up and took a deep breath. There was another number he could call, but he was hoping for some reason she'd still be at the office. He picked the receiver up again, and dialed the second number on the note. Then he sat back and listened to it ring.

"Kathleen Donovan."

"Hi, Kathleen. It's Sam."

"Sam?" There was a hint of surprise heard through the line.

"Yeah. Did I catch you at a bad time or do you always answer your cellphone like that?"

"Force of habit," she said with a chuckle and then all Sam heard were odd muffled sounds followed by a clattering of plastic on a hard surface.

"Kathleen?...Kathleen?"

"Sorry about that," he finally heard. "Dropped the phone when I was trying to open the door. It was either the phone or the eggs and I saved the eggs."

"Good decision," he laughed. "So you're just getting home? Should I call later?"

"No, no. I'm inside now, just have to put a few things away."

"Good," he said, his smile growing. "So, I know I should have called earlier and I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," she said. "I'll be honest. I wasn't really sure you'd call."

"Well, I did," he said resolutely. "And I still want to take you to dinner. Are you free day after tomorrow?"

"Um...yes. No, wait, that's Wednesday, I'm not."

"Okay," Sam said hesitantly.

"Sam, I'm not blowing you off. I'm having dinner with my parents. My mother's been after me for several weeks to have dinner with them, so duty calls."

By the tone of her voice he could almost picture her rolling her eyes. "Well, sure, duty calls. When _would_ be good for you?"

"The following night," she said with certainty. 

"You're sure?"

"Yes, Sam, I'm sure. Tomorrow night dinner with some partners from Boston. Wednesday, dinner with my parents. The following night, dinner with Sam. I've put it in my schedule, there's no backing out now."

"Well, then," Sam said, amused with the turn of the conversation. "Where should we go?"

"Do you like Korean food?" she asked.

"Korean?"

"Yeah, there's this great little restaurant a couple of blocks from my place. I passed it the other night and ever since then I've been dying for bul kogi."

"Bul kogi?" Sam questioned.

"Oh it's great," she raved. "You can even cook the meat right at your table."

"Sounds like quite the place," he said. "I'm certainly up for trying it."

"That's the spirit," she said with a laugh.

"Alright, does eight work for you?"

"Sure."

"Okay. Great then. Would you like to meet there or should I pick you up?"

They worked out the final arrangements and then Sam hung up so she could finish putting her groceries away. Then he turned off his light and grabbed his coat. On his way out of the bullpen he saw Toby heading back from the direction of the Oval Office. Sam wondered why Toby was coming from that direction instead of C.J.'s office, but it was late and he wanted to go home so he ducked around the corner. He didn't want Toby to call him back and get into an inevitable re-hash of the answer the President gave on Affirmative Action. Mercifully, he made it outside with nobody stopping him. He'd managed to escape from the office before midnight and he wasn't looking to tempt fate so he headed straight for his car and drove home.

~*~*~

"Hey, Sam."

"Hey, Josh," he replied, not looking up from the memo he was going over. Josh came in, sat down in one of the visitor's chairs and leaned forward.

"So, Amy-"

"Hey, how did everything go with the meeting yesterday? When I left around one you guys were still going at it."

"Yeah, we finished up around three this morning and started again around eight. We just finished up half an hour ago."

"What time is it?" Sam asked as he grabbed a folder and began taking notes on a legal pad.

"7:45," Josh said, looking at his watch.

"What?" Sam yelped and cast a desperate glance at his own watch. "Josh, your watch sucks. Buy a new one. It's only 7:10."

"Why are you so anxious about the time?"

"I've got plans," Sam said casually.

"Plans?" Josh asked.

"Yeah, plans. I'm having dinner with Kathleen."

"Who's Kathleen?"

"The lady I met before Christmas," Sam answered.

"Oh, the woman you went home with. Did you ever find out what she does?"

"She's a lawyer," Sam said, a bit of frustration entering his voice.

"Really? She's not, like, a law student putting her way through school with a seedy night job?"

Sam glared at Josh and coldly said, "I can't believe you just asked that. She's a lawyer. I've been to her office."

"Alright," Josh said, raising his hands partway. "So you're going out to dinner with her. Why?"

Sam angrily took off his glasses. "Josh, do you need something? Is there a reason you came here other to give me grief over my dinner plans?"

"I came to tell you that now that everything with Vieques is taken care of, Amy and I are going to take our trip to Tahiti next week."

"That's great," Sam said, his voice flat. "Have a great time, and...uh, be sure to write."

"Sam-"

"Look, Josh. I'm sorry, but I'm trying to finish up on these notes for Toby so that I can manage to steal an hour or two to have dinner with a very attractive woman. Not that it apparently matters to you."

Sam stood up and began replacing files and turning off his lights. "So you just feel free to go on and on about Amy and I'm gonna go. 'Cause half the time I'm not even needed in those conversations anyway."

He grabbed his coat and hit the switch as he walked out the door. Josh stood in the darkened office and watched as Sam left the bullpen without a backward glance. Stuffing his hands in his pants pockets, Josh slowly walked back to his office not quite believing that Sam had just walked out.

~*~*~

"So, what is this again?" Sam asked, casting a curious eye as Kathleen flipped a strip of meat over on the grill sitting in the middle of the table.

"It's bul kogi," Kathleen said with a stiff smile and a small roll of her eyes.

"And I'm supposed to eat it how?"

"Sam, do you eat? I mean, do you ever eat Chinese food, or Japanese food?"

"I eat Chinese. Actually, a lot of Chinese take out. 'Cause it's quick and when I'm hungry I want to eat. I've never eaten Korean food, though."

"Well then, time to broaden your palate. Take the lettuce, put some rice in it, add a strip of meat, if you want to be bold, add a slice of garlic and if you really want to be bold, try that," she said gesturing with her chop stick to a dish with a green paste-looking substance in it. "I personally don't like it, because I'm a wimp on hot things, and that has some wallop to it. Other than that, just try it, Sam. No one is going to come over and make fun of you for eating the food wrong."

"Okay, I just think it's odd to be grilling the meat at our table. The kitchen couldn't have done it for us?"

"This was a mistake, wasn't it, Sam? We're not going to be able to get through dinner being civil to each other."

"Why do you say that?"

"'Cause since we've come here, we've both been snappish with each other. Maybe that night after Christmas was just a fluke. Maybe it was the alcohol. We're certainly not doing well this time around."

"I'm sorry," Sam said. "It's just work's really crazy. We've got this huge speech on Monday and I guess I just have a lot on my mind."

"So what you're saying is you'd like to get back to work? It's alright if you do."

"No, I don't want to go back to work. Lately, work has been the last place I've wanted to be," Sam said, trailing the last words off softly. These past few days had been crazy, working on the draft for the U.N. speech, but it wasn't covering the feeling of discontent he'd been feeling lately. Giving a small shake of his head he said with more feeling this time, "No, I don't want to go back to work. I invited you to dinner and I'm enjoying myself, even if I have no idea about the food."

The small hesitant smile and disarming laugh broke the tension and Kathleen's shoulders dropped. "Sorry, guess it's just been a bad week. Dinner last night was an exercise in jumping through hoops and I'm still a little frayed."

"Alright, so new rule. No shop talk, and apparently no family talk, based on last night's dinner. So anything else," he said and tapped his chopsticks on the table for emphasis and nearly tipped over the bowl of bean sprouts.

When dinner was over, Sam walked Kathleen out to her car and stood beside it as she unlocked her door. She opened the door and then turned to Sam to thank him for the night.

"Once we got past that first part, I had a lot of fun."

"Me too," he admitted. "Can I call you again?"

"Sure," she said, an enigmatic smile crossing her lips. "Just don't wait so long to call next time."

Sam opened his mouth to respond and was interrupted by his pager going off. He quickly said goodnight to Kathleen and then turned to walk to his car. Climbing inside, he took the pager off his belt and read the display in the overhead light.

"Yeah, yeah, Toby, I'm on my way back," he mumbled as he started the car. "Can't a man even take an hour to have dinner?"

Before pulling into the street, he cast a quick look back at the restaurant. It had been a pleasant evening, and he enjoyed eating dinner someplace beside the mess and talking about something besides the speech the President was about to give. A happy smile firmly in place, Sam pulled into the street and headed back to the White House.

Chapter 7 

(June 2002)

"Kathleen?"

She looked up from her lunch and replied, "Josh."

"So, heard from Sam yet?" he asked as he sat down across from her.

"Well, as I said the other ten times when you've asked me in the last day and a half, no."

"How can that be?" he asked in exasperation.

"Because he hasn't called me, Josh. And your constantly calling my office isn't going to change that," she snapped. Then her voice dropped, "I'm worried too, you know."

"I know. It's just he's my best friend and I didn't see this coming."

"Well, 'cause you know, you weren't really being his friend."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Josh flared at her.

"Keep your voice down," she commanded as people in the restaurant turned to look at them.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Josh asked again, this time less loudly.

"It means, you haven't been his friend lately," she stated. "The signs were there, Josh, that he's been disillusioned and unhappy. But nobody, least of all you, seemed really bothered enough to find out that something was going on."

Josh tried to say something but Kathleen wouldn't let him interrupt. "Let me ask you this. Did you know his ulcers came back at the holidays? When his ex-fiancée was going to do that piece on him, did you ever talk to him? No, you were too busy talking to Toby and chasing after Amy Gardner to ask how your supposed best friend was doing. How he really felt about seeing the woman he was once engaged to. He tried to tell C.J. he didn't want to do the article, especially with Lisa, but she didn't care. Honestly, did _any_ of you ever stop for a minute and think that perhaps you should ask for or insist on another reporter?"

She picked up her glass of iced tea and took a drink as she watched Josh with skeptical eyes.

"How do you even know all that?" Josh asked. "That was all before you two started dating."

"I asked, Josh. I asked him what was bothering him, and then I listened. He didn't tell me this all at once, but eventually he told me."

"So you're saying I don't listen?"

"I'm saying you don't even really ask. Or you only hear what you want to."

"I ask how he is and he says fine. If he won't say more what am I supposed to do?"

"When do you ask him, Josh?" she asked incredulously. "On your way to a meeting? After you've just shouted him down once again over what you think is another stupid cause he's gotten fired up about? When was the last time the two of you went out for a beer and just 'talked'?"

"I...I don't know."

"Well, don't be so surprised that he didn't come running to you and bare his soul. After the State of the Union he felt like nothing he did mattered. He wondered why he was working there. He said the speech got the job done, but it was flash over substance."

"He's still bothered by the cancer part not being in the speech?"

"I think he's just bothered because he wonders if he's making a difference. If what he's doing is actually important, if it matters. It's pretty disillusioning to wonder if you've wasted four years of your life."

"He really wonders that?"

She gave a small nod of her head, "Yeah."

Her cell phone rang and Josh anxiously watched her as she flipped it open. "Kathleen Donovan."

"Is it him?" he asked.

She held up her finger to silence him. "Yeah, okay, I'll be right there."

"Kathleen?" Josh asked.

"I'm sorry, Josh. That was my office, I have to get back. Like I've told you before, when I hear from him I'll let you know."

"Yeah," Josh said, slumping back in his seat.

"I'm sorry. I want him to call just as much as you do. I really gotta go."

~*~*~

"Kathleen?"

"Yes, Nick?"

"Carrie called from up front. Toby Zeigler is here to see you."

Kathleen wearily closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. "Okay. Can you bring him back here please?"

She looked up a few minutes later at the knock on her open door and put on her glasses. "Thanks, Nick. Come on in, Toby."

"Hey," he said, his hands stuffed inside his pants pockets.

"Have a seat, Toby."

Taking a seat, he didn't say anything to her. Just stared.

"So I guess this is the part where I ask why you're here. To which you'll reply you're worried about Sam."

Toby cleared his throat and said, "Yeah."

"Well, Toby, yesterday I told Josh I'd call him if I heard from Sam. Did I call Josh?"

"No."

"Then it means I haven't heard from Sam."

"Yeah."

"But you probably already knew that, so now I'm wondering why you're really here. I mean, here in my office, in the middle of the day. We've met, what, only a couple of times when I've stopped in at the White House. How did you even know where I work?"

"I had Josh tell me," he told her.

"Why? Why couldn't you just call, why'd you have to come down here?"

"I'm worried about Sam," Toby said as he shifted in his chair.

"The phrase, 'too little, too late' comes to mind, Toby. You guys had no clue because you missed all the signs. I'm his girlfriend, what really makes you think I'm going to tell you everything he said to me?"

Toby sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "'Cause we're clueless and we're asking for your help."

"I'll call you if I hear from him. I'll try and get him to come back to Washington. What more can I really do?"

"Tell me why he's mad at me," Toby finally said. "You told Josh he was a lousy friend 'cause he was too busy chasing after Amy. Tell me what I've done to Sam that made him so mad at me."

Toby was taken aback when she started to laugh. "You really are clueless, Toby. You think I'm going to list all the reasons Sam is unhappy with you? You're a smart man, Toby. Just think about it and I'm sure it will come to you."

"The drop-in?"

"Ancient history," she said, her tone chiding Toby. "Yeah he was upset, and I guess that was kind-of the start. But do you think that's the only thing bothering him?"

"No," Toby replied. "Being the last to find out about MS and mad cow."

"That's part of it, Toby," she told him. "It was a lot of things and I really don't have time to go through it all right now."

"You really hate us that much?" Toby asked.

"No," she said with a sigh. "But you hurt someone I care very deeply about. I've watched him come closer to self-destruction every day and haven't been able to do a thing about it."

"Why didn't he say anything?" Toby asked with exasperation.

"Well, perhaps because of that attitude right there, Toby. He speaks up in meetings and gets shouted down. He gets looked at like a joke because he cares about the issues that nobody else seems to."

"But if this was important to him, I would listen."

"Would you really?" she asked sadly. "You said he was a good deputy, and then you've cut him off at the knees."

"When have I done that?" he asked somewhat angrily.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out if you just think about it. I'm sorry, Toby, but I do have work to do. I'd love to sit here and placate your's and Josh's guilty consciences, but frankly I'm tired of it. If I hear from Sam I'll let you know."

"If? You don't sound too confident there."

"Each day that goes by, I'm less and less confidant," she said honestly. "I don't know where he is and I just want him to call."

~*~*~

C.J. stood in the hallway outside the door and knocked again. She had seen the lights on in the window as she was driving home and decided to stop. The door opened and C.J. stepped back in surprise.

"Kathleen?"

"C.J.? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing. This is Sam's apartment, unless you moved in while he was away."

"Come in, C.J." she said tiredly, and walked back into the apartment. "Really, what are you doing here?"

"I was driving home and saw the lights on. I thought Sam might have come home," C.J. said, looking around the apartment. There was a broom and a mop in the entryway and a dust rag and cleaner on the entertainment center.

"Your apartment is the opposite way from Sam's," Kathleen said matter of factly.

"How did you-"

"That night I picked Sam up at the airport after you guys had to come back early from a campaign trip. I offered you a ride, but you said you'd take a cab since you were the opposite end of town."

"Yeah, that's right," C.J. said as she sat down next to Kathleen on the sofa. "I drove by hoping he might have come home. Cleaning?"

Kathleen gave a tired laugh. "I clean when I can't sleep. It's that whole hoping I can work myself into exhaustion, but it never seems to work. So now that my apartment is clean, and I mean my grout gleams, I decided to come over and clean Sam's."

"Ah, I see," C.J. said nodding her head. "Still no word from Sam?"

Kathleen sighed wearily. "C.J., I told Josh and Toby I would let you guys know if I heard from him. I know you're all wondering, but honestly I'm not holding out on you guys. I haven't heard from him and frankly I'm getting really tired of Toby and Josh calling every day. The least they could do is coordinate their efforts so that they only call once."

"Well, it's been nearly a week," C.J. replied. "And after telling them all these things they've done wrong, they're a little worried you won't tell them."

"Oh, honestly."

"I'm just saying," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. "They think you don't like them."

"So are you here to lecture me?"

"No."

"You going to ask me why Sam's mad at you?"

"No."

Kathleen arched an eyebrow at C.J.

"Well, the thought did cross my mind, but after the way you laid into Toby and Josh, I think I'll pass."

"They said I laid into them? Wimps."

"Well, it's not easy having your friend's girlfriend chew you out."

Kathleen shook her head sadly and closed her eyes. Her head sank back on the couch in weary defeat.

"Have you slept lately?" C.J. asked.

"What, turning in to my best friend?" Kathleen asked guardedly. "I sleep. If I'm lucky, I get two maybe three hours a night. I'm perfectly fine, can't you tell?"

"I should probably go," C.J. said. "I'm sorry if I bothered you."

"No, you've actually been better than Josh or Toby," she said as she followed C.J. to the door.

They were saying good-bye when a phone started to ring. Kathleen quickly closed the door and ran for her purse. Sam's machine picked up after the first ring, besides, she knew her cellphone's ring anywhere."

"Hello?" she said breathlessly. "Hello?"

"Kathleen?"

Kathleen collapsed to the floor as she breathed out, "Sam?"

Chapter 8

Kathleen sat on the floor of Sam's apartment, her knees drawn up to her chest, her hand clutching her cellphone. "Sam?"

"Yeah, it's me, Kathleen."

"Oh thank Heaven. Where are you? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Kathleen. Where are you?"

"What?"

"I called your apartment, I called your office, finally I called your cellphone. It's one in the morning. Where could you possibly be?"

"I'm at your apartment, Sam," she said in frustration. "Don't do this. Don't try and deflect my questions. I'm not them, this is me. Please tell me where you are."

"I'm in Limón," he finally said as a breath whooshed out.

Her forehead bunched together in tired confusion, "Where?"

"Costa Rica. I'm in Limón, Costa Rica."

Her knees fell to the side coming to rest on the floor; she leaned her elbow on the couch and rubbed her hand wearily across her face. "How did you end up in Costa Rica?"

"How 'bout I explain it to you in person?"

"You mean you're coming home?" she asked hopefully.

"No, I meant why don't you join me here?" he said cheerfully.

"Sam, it's after one in the morning. I'm too tired to go through these games. Why are you in Costa Rica? Do you plan on coming home and if so when? But more than that, are you really okay, Sam?"

"I'm fine, Kathleen, really. I just had to get away for a while and when I saw there was a flight to Costa Rica, I just took it. You're the one who sounds a little tense."

"Well, maybe that's because you've been gone nearly a week and this is the first time I've heard from you," she snapped even as her voice cracked with emotion. Exhaustion and stress had finally caught up to her. "Every day I've had to deal with Josh, and then Toby calling or stopping by asking if I'd heard from you, or if I was absolutely certain I didn't know where you were. C.J. stopped by tonight and I'm just wondering when I'll hear from Leo."

"They've been harassing you?" he asked, anger rising in his voice.

"They're just concerned I won't tell them if I hear from you. You threw them for a loop when you blew up at them in Leo's office. Since you're not around to answer their questions they're coming to me."

"Maybe I should just come back," Sam sighed in defeat.

Kathleen wiped her eyes and shook her head. "Sam, I know I asked when you were coming back, but if you don't want to come home then stay. I can handle Josh, Toby and C.J. as long as I know where you are. Now that I do, I can deal with their questions. If you still need time, then take it."

He was silent as her words sunk in and he thought for a while. "You haven't been sleeping have you? Were you cleaning my apartment?"

"No, and yes," she answered somewhat sheepishly.

His voice softened and he said, "I should have realized you'd be on a cleaning bender. I'm really sorry I didn't call you sooner. Listen, I'll call you tomorrow, or later today as the case may be. You just promise me you'll get some sleep, alright?"

"'Kay, sounds good," she murmured sleepily as she rested her head on the couch.

"Good," he answered. Then he added, "You're not going to drive home are you?"

"I don't think I'd make it," she admitted.

"Good. What time would you like your wake up call?" he said, his voice dropping to a sultry tone.

"Nine would be wonderful, but then I'd also be late for court, my boss would be all over my case and the judge might not appreciate it either. So you better make it six."

"Six it is," he said softly. "Goodnight, Kathleen."

"Night, Sam," she whispered and then turned off her phone.

She slowly stood up and headed down the hall to Sam's bedroom. Grateful that she'd brought her clothes and things for the morning; she reached into her bag and grabbed her cellphone charger. She plugged it in and set it on top of Sam's dresser, then paused. Opening up one of the drawers, she searched through the stack of shirts until she found his Duke T-shirt. After slipping it on and brushing her teeth, she crawled into bed and curled up on Sam's side. Before falling asleep, she barely remembered to set the alarm so that she could get a shower before Sam called. Then, for the first time in six days, she slept until the alarm woke her.

~*~*~

Kathleen sat in the lobby and glanced at her watch. It seemed Josh was running late, but he'd told her this morning he had several late meetings on the Hill. She called him on her way to court to tell him Sam had finally called her. He sounded relieved, then asked if she could stop by after she was done for the day, and since she was running late and didn't have time to talk she agreed to come to the White House at seven.

It was now nearly 7:30 and she wished she hadn't left her briefcase in her car. At least then she could have been doing something instead of feeling like a child sitting outside the principal's office after getting into a fight. Looking over at the guard, she thought about asking if he could call and find out how much longer she was going to be kept waiting. Then she saw a tall, red haired woman walk up to the guard and then look directly at her.

"Ms. Donovan?" the woman said, walking up to her. "I'm Margaret, Leo McGarry's assistant. Sorry to keep you waiting. Could you come with me?"

Kathleen stood and followed Margaret through the double doors into the West Wing. "I thought I was meeting with Josh."

"Josh is in Leo's office. Here we are," Margaret said as she directed Kathleen inside.

Kathleen stopped inside the doorway and figured it was probably too late to turn and run. Besides, running from the office right next to the Oval Office would be bound to raise suspicion and probably the Secret Service's ire. Swallowing, she walked in and looked directly at Leo, who was standing in front of his desk. She tried to ignore that C.J., Josh and Toby were all there as well, staring at her.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Ms. Donovan. Please, have a seat," Leo said, indicating one of the chairs in front of his desk. As he turned and walked behind it, Kathleen sat down on the edge of a seat. Leo sat down and looked at her.

"Would you like anything to drink?" he asked.

"No, I'm fine," she lied, desperately wishing for a stiff shot of anything.

Josh walked up and sat down in the chair next to her, while C.J. and Toby sat on the couch. Kathleen looked at them and then back to Leo.

"I thought I was just coming here to see Josh," she said, looking back and forth between Josh and Leo.

"We all wanted to hear how Sam is doing," Josh explained. "He is alright?"

"Yes," she answered with a small nod of her head. "He sounded relaxed for the first time in months."

"Did he tell you where he is?" Leo asked her.

"He...uh...he asked me not to say. I'm sorry, Mr. McGarry. He was kind of surprised you guys didn't already know."

"Not that we didn't consider it," Leo admitted. "But we were hoping he would contact someone first before we had to start digging through flight records."

"Did he say when he was coming back?" Josh asked anxiously.

"He didn't," she said shaking her head. "I asked him, but I also didn't want to push him."

When she finished speaking, the room fell silent. Kathleen shifted in her seat and then said, "My gut feeling is it'll be a day or two. Before he took off, Sam always impressed me as the kind of person who was dedicated to his job, even when he didn't always like it. He's slept, he's been a bum and done nothing all day but sit on a beach somewhere. He's had a week to regroup after this incident, and I don't think he'll stay away much longer. He knows he has a job to do here with the election coming up. That is if he still has a job."

"Yes he does," Leo told her. "We're telling people he's taking some personal time and not elaborating beyond that. But tell him we do want to talk to him before he comes back to work."

"I will. Anything else?" she asked. Seeing the others shake their heads she told them, "I'm supposed to call him tonight. I'm trying to get him to come back. I'll let you know what he decides."

"Thank you, Kathleen," Josh told her, and stood up. "I'll walk you out, okay?"

"Alright," she nodded and stood. She nodded when Leo thanked her for coming in and then passed by C.J. and Toby who had remained silent the whole time. She felt their gazes on her, but she just followed Josh out into the hallway.

"So he really is alright?" Josh asked as they were walking.

"Yes, he is."

"He say anything else?" Josh asked.

"What? Like he hates his job, he hates his co-workers and he's never coming back? I didn't lie in there, Josh. I asked if he was coming back, he didn't say. He actually wants me to join him," she said as they stopped in the lobby.

"You going to?" Josh asked guardedly.

"I should tell you that's none of your business, 'cause it isn't. But I honestly haven't decided," she said wearily. "So, now that I told you Sam called and what he said, will you believe me when I say that I'll call you when he tells me what he's going to do?"

"Yeah, I'll just wait for you to call," he told her.

"I certainly hope that's true. Goodnight, Josh."

Kathleen turned and walked out the lobby and headed off to her car. As she drove home, all she could think about was Sam and how relaxed he'd sounded when they talked that morning. He talked about the beaches and the Caribbean flavor of the area. He'd tried to entice her into coming, telling her they could sit on the beach or check out the rest of the country. There were several volcanoes they could see and when they got tired of the beaches around Limón they could head over to the Pacific side of the country and see the sights there.

She was sure he'd picked up every fact book on the country he could find and had probably researched it on the web too. Sam would be as close to an expert on Costa Rica as he could be in a week's time. He talked about the fresh tropical fruit and the animals he'd seen, and she had to admit it all sounded so tempting.

Pulling into her parking space in her apartment building's parking garage, Kathleen turned off the car and climbed out. She grabbed her bags from the back seat and headed up to her apartment. Maybe just for fun, she'd check out the cost of flights before she called Sam at his hotel.

Chapter 9 

Kathleen unlocked the door to her apartment and flipped on the light. Dropping her briefcase on the floor she hung up her keys on the keyholder over the small table in the entryway. She put the mail on the table because she just didn't feel like dealing with her Visa bill or junk mail trying to get her to change long distance carriers. She'd deal with it all tomorrow.

Walking into the living room, she draped her suit jacket over the back of a chair while she picked up her phone to check her messages. There was only one message, from her mother reminding her about the dinner for her grandmother's birthday the following weekend. Kathleen was sure there would be several more 'reminders' between now and then. With a sigh, she logged out of her voice mail and hung up the phone. 

Heading over to her computer, she turned it on and then walked into the kitchen to find something to eat. As she was rummaging through her refrigerator trying to find something quick and easy to fix, her phone rang. She closed the door and grabbed the phone off the counter.

"Hello."

"Welcome home, Kathleen."

"Sam?"

There was a small chuckle. "Yep. Whatcha doing in the kitchen?"

Kathleen looked around puzzled. "Sam, if this was anybody else, I'd think spy cameras had been put in my apartment. You didn't do that, did you?"

"Nope," he laughed, seeming to enjoy her confusion. She loved hearing him laugh. It had been missing for so long.

"Then how did you know I was home or that I'd been in the kitchen?"

"Why don't you head back to your bedroom?" he asked, his voice full of mischief.

"Sam," she hedged, growing uneasy. "What are you up to?"

"Trust me. Just head back to your bedroom."

Kathleen slowly walked down the hallway, feeling like she was heading for the gallows, or maybe some imminent doom in a horror movie. She put her hand on the doorknob and paused.

"Open up the door, Kathleen. Nobody's going to jump out at you with an axe," he chuckled.

"Are you in my bedroom?"

"Why don't you open the door and find out."

She could hear the playfulness in his voice. It was a bit unnerving, considering how depressed and shutdown he'd been just one week ago. But his smile, which she could hear through the phone, was definitely infectious and she found a playful grin coving her own face.

"Alright, I think I will," she laughed and opened up the door.

"Hello," she heard echo through her phone and come from a tanned and relaxed Sam sitting on her bed.

~*~*~

Kathleen walked out of her bedroom and headed to the kitchen, where she could hear a morning news station coming out of the radio. Sam looked up from the stove when she walked in, and came over to greet her with a kiss and a glass of apple juice. The paper was lying on the table and she was sure he'd already gone through it while she was in the shower and then getting dressed.

"Good morning," she said as Sam directed her to sit down. He placed a plate with scrambled eggs and pancakes before her. "My, somebody sure has been a busy beaver while I was in the shower."

"Morning," Sam replied as he sat down at the table. "How come you don't have any orange juice? Orange juice is made for mornings."

She laughed at his expression as she reached for the syrup. "I'm allergic to citrus."

"You are?" he asked, surprised. "How could I not know that?"

"I don't know," she laughed. "I guess it's just never come up."

"Well then, I better cancel that Key Lime Pie I ordered for pickup tonight," he said with a wink. "Where would you like to go for dinner tonight?"

"Do we have to go anywhere?" she asked. "You've been gone a week, I really would rather just stay in. Half the town is probably wondering where you've been."

"I doubt that," Sam said dryly, then quickly shook the cloud off that was beginning to settle. "But I'd better call Leo this morning."

"Yeah," she agreed. "He was polite to me, but that's probably because I don't work there. I think you're going to get an earful."

"He might just get one back," Sam said with conviction. "I meant what I said last week, that hasn't changed."

"I know," she told him. "Will you give me a call today and let me know how it all goes?"

"Sure. Think you'll be late?"

"I hope not. It's Friday. I spent all day yesterday in court, so I've got some things to catch up on, but I hope I won't have to stay too late."

"Good. Depending on what happens with Leo, maybe we can take the boat out this weekend."

"I'd like that, Sailor," she said with a smile as she leaned over and kissed him. Then she stood up. "Now, I better go, or I'll be late."

Kathleen headed into the living room and grabbed her suit coat and slipped on her shoes. Sam handed her briefcase and car keys to her and laughed when she said it felt like a scene out of 'Mr. Mom.' When the door closed, he turned and gave a beleaguered sigh. It was time to face the music and call Leo.

~*~*~

"Leo McGarry's office."

"Hi, Margaret. It's Sam. Is Leo in?"

He could almost picture her, frozen in the middle of a task, surprised to hear his voice over the phone.

"Sam?" she said in a rush, and then calmed herself down. "Just a minute."

She put him on hold and then quickly wrote a note. She stood and walked to the door and knocked.

"Yes?"

Opening the door, she smiled her apologies to Leo and the Education Secretary. She handed Leo the note and then stood quietly to the side while he read it. It was a testament to his political skill that he read the message without so much as raising an eyebrow. She knew she wouldn't have been that calm. She'd barely managed to contain a small squeal when she heard his voice on the line.

"Mr. Secretary, I'm sorry, but a call's come in that I need to take. I'll pass this along to the President."

Once the secretary and Margaret were out, he sat down at his desk and picked up the phone. In a voice deceptively neutral he said, "Sam?"

"Hello, Leo," Sam said, his voice tightening up with nerves. This was worse than the time he had to tell his father that he'd scraped the side of the car while backing out of the garage.

"Didn't expect to hear from you so soon. Kathleen said you were still out of town."

"Yes, she told me about that," Sam replied, his resentment over their behavior toward her overriding his nervousness. "Whose idea was it to have all of you present?"

"It's was mine and Josh's," Leo said easily. "We were all concerned and wanted to find out where you were."

"It was an ambush, Leo. Have everyone present and she'll just be so nervous she'll spill everything. Isn't that what you were thinking?" Sam said, his voice gaining more emotion. He paused and took several deep breaths and told himself to remain calm. He didn't need to get into another shouting match with Leo now that he was back in town.

"So you're calling to defend your girlfriend's honor? That's taking that White Knight complex a bit far, even for you, isn't it, Sam?"

"No," Sam said, his voice once again calm. "Kathleen can take care of herself. I'm calling because I'm back in Washington."

"You are?" Leo asked, clearly surprised.

"Yes, and you told Kathleen I should call before coming back to work after my 'personal time off.'"

"What are you doing tonight, Sam?" Leo asked, his voice calm and leaving little room for doubt of his true meaning.

"I was going to have dinner with Kathleen, but now I think I'm going to be coming to the White House."

"Good answer, Sam," he told him. "Why don't you come around 10:30? C.J. will have put the lid on for the night. There won't be many people around. I'll tell the guards to expect you."

"Right," Sam said in agreement. "I got it, Leo. I'll see you at 10:30."

Sam hung up the phone and leaned his head back against the couch with a sigh. The call had gone pretty much like he expected it to. Of course Leo wasn't going to be as ecstatic as Kathleen that he'd finally called. After all, he'd broken the second Cardinal Rule in the White House. After "Don't yell at the President" was "Don't yell at Leo and not apologize." Sam had yelled at Leo before, they all had, but he'd always apologized.

This time though, Sam hadn't apologized. He'd yelled at everyone, especially Leo, and then he walked out. He left the White House, he left the country, and he hadn't told anybody where he was. If Josh or Toby had done that, that might have been understandable. But not Sam. Sam wasn't supposed to act that way.

Sam was supposed to be loyal, stand up for ideals, and be there no matter what. He might occasionally slip and express anger, or disappointment, or something other than good ol' loveable, cheerful, dependable Sam, but those slips were supposed to be covered up quickly and forgotten.

Feeling like a condemned man with only a few hours to live, he decided he didn't want to sit around waiting until he was called to face Leo. He glanced at his watch and made some mental calculations. Shaking off the melancholy and dread that had come over him after talking to Leo, he picked up the phone and dialed.

"Kathleen Donovan's office."

"Hey, Nick, it's Sam. Is she free?"

"Just a minute, Sam," he was told and then he heard the piped in music her firm had for hold music.

"Hi, Sam," she said cheerfully.

"Hey," he said, a comfortable smile crossing his face. "I talked with Leo, and he wants me to come in at 10:30 tonight."

"Oh, so you want to cancel tonight?"

"No," he replied resolutely. "I want to move it up. Do you think you could get away early?"

"Probably," she said, figuring out how much absolutely had to get done before she left and what could be worked on later.

"Think you could be done by noon?"

"Noon?" she asked surprised. 

"Yeah. Why wait until this weekend to take the boat out? Let's go now. I'll grab some food and some comfortable clothes for you to change into. I'll pick you up and we'll head over to the marina. I don't have to be there until 10:30. Let's go."

Kathleen laughed at his earnest nature and his catching exuberance. "Alright. Let's do it. I'll finish up here and see you at noon."

"Great. I'll see you then," he said and hung up the phone. Then, whistling, he got up and headed off to Kathleen's bedroom to grab some clothes for her before he headed off to the store.

Chapter 10 

Sam sat in his car, the engine idling, and took a deep breath to calm himself. He knew Leo had to know he was here. The guard at the main gate had waved him through easily enough. Turning off the car, he climbed out and headed up to the door. When he opened it, he was surprised to see only a guard sitting at the main desk. Sure, it was 10:30 on a Friday night, but he didn't remember ever seeing the lobby this empty.

As he approached the desk, the guard lifted the phone and spoke into it. Sam waited and when he hung up, smiled and said, "Evening, Travis."

"Evenin', Mr. Seaborn. Mr. McGarry's on his way."

"Thank you," Sam said calmly. The doors to the lobby opened and Leo walked through, his calm exterior only slightly showing the tension he felt by tightness around the mouth.

"Sam, right on time. Thanks, Travis."

Then Leo turned and headed back to the doors and Sam was left scrambling to catch up. They remained silent until they reached Leo's office and the door was closed behind them.

"Have a seat, Sam," Leo said as he walked over and sat down in his chair.

Sam took a seat and then looked across the desk at Leo. This was definitely like getting called into the principal's office. He'd only been there once after a particularly bad fight with Bobby during Phys Ed. It was a feeling he never wanted to relive, and yet here he was, sitting across from Leo who looked like at any minute he could snap and turn ballistic.

Leo slowly opened up a desk drawer and pulled out a manila envelope that Sam immediately recognized. 'Personal and Confidential' were scrawled across the front along with Leo's address. He wondered if Margaret recognized it as his handwriting, since he'd written it so hastily while he was at the airport waiting for his flight to be called. Leo slid the envelope across the desk to Sam and then closed the drawer.

"Nobody knows," Leo said as Sam reached out to pick it up.

Sam looked up surprised, and then said, "Thank you."

"Why?"

"I don't know," Sam said, shifting in his chair. "I figured I might not have a job after what I said in here, and then I got thinking I wasn't so sure I wanted to keep working here even if I wasn't fired."

"I knew you needed some time, and so I didn't inform the President of your resignation. I figured once you got back into town, we'd talk."

"Thank you," Sam said. Through the envelope he could feel the ID cards he'd sent to Leo, along with a hastily written letter of resignation. He wondered if the letter was still in the envelope or if Leo had taken it out.

"So, let's talk," Leo said, slightly leaning back in his chair. "What you said in here last week was pretty strong. We were all rather surprised."

"I could tell," Sam replied.

"A joke. That's how you said you felt, and how we all viewed you. Nobody took you seriously and you wondered why we bothered to keep you as a member of the Senior Staff."

"Yes," Sam said in a firm voice, with a slight nod of his head.

"Sam, are you only going to give short answers?"

"What do you want me to say, Leo? I think I pretty well said it all just over a week ago. I _am_ taken as a joke around here, despite how much everyone else protests that fact. I'm given throwaway assignments, and if I offer my opinion or suggestion on a matter, as I'm supposed to do being an advisor to the President, I get laughed at or ignored. You can't say you haven't done the same thing, Leo."

"I've done no such thing, Sam. Nor do I think we have time to go through your laundry list of perceived wrongs."

"Exactly," Sam said flatly. "'Knock yourself out. In fact, go ahead and knock yourself out.' You said that, Leo. Clearly what I was talking about with the seatbelt lawsuit didn't matter. Fine, I can handle that. But the utter lack of respect around here is what gets me."

Sam paused and swallowed then gestured with the envelope; "Maybe I was right to do this. Clearly things aren't going to change around here if they're not going to change at the top. During the standoff between Taiwan and China, the President asked me if I wanted to come inside. Yeah, I wanted to come inside after being shoved out by everyone else around here. I finally felt like _someone_ remembered I was on the staff around here, and not an intern just pinch-hitting on the speeches with Toby."

"What do you want me to do, Sam? Write a memo and tell everyone they have to play nicely with you?" Leo asked wearily.

"No, I don't need _Dad_ to tell everyone else to that they can't keep locking me out of the house after school. But if you don't view me as a member of this staff who can work on important matters and hold my own around here, then nobody else is going to. Stop sending me away from meetings, stop treating me like I can't focus on two things at once, stop acting like I'm so young and naïve that I can't be trusted with important political matters for this administration. Stop saddling me with throwaway meetings, and then being so surprised when I actually bring up the concerns of these people. What else am I supposed to talk about if that's all I'm given?"

Leo's eyes widened as Sam's voice rose at the end. Sam blinked and noticeably took a deep breath before continuing. "This is why I left, Leo. This is why I sent in my resignation and my ID cards. I left Gage Whitney because I thought Josh found the real deal. I worked hard on the campaign and in the beginning of this administration. I'm just wondering where along the way everyone seemed to forget that I had been right there beside them the entire time and they felt that I didn't matter anymore. Until that can be answered, until _you_ can answer that, I think my resignation stands."

"No, it won't, Sam. I won't accept it." 

Leo and Sam started and turned toward the voice in the doorway, as they scrambled to their feet. The President walked across the carpet toward the desk. 

"I came to tell you I just got off the phone with the people at Labor, but that can wait. You didn't tell me Sam was going to be stopping by tonight, and you certainly didn't tell me that he had turned in his resignation."

"Sir," Leo said, trying to ward off the inevitable lecture.

"How was your time off, Sam?" he asked, turning his attention to Sam.

"Very nice, Sir," Sam said somewhat nervously.

"Where'd you go?"

"Um... Limón. Limón, Costa Rica."

"See any of the volcanoes in the area?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Come tell me about them," he said and turned toward the door between Leo's office and the Oval. Sam looked to Leo and then back to the President. "Get your things, Samuel, and come with me."

~*~*~

"Go ahead and have a seat, Sam," the President said once they were inside the Oval Office. "Would you like a drink?"

"Water is fine," Sam replied, because now was not the time for alcohol. When he got back to Kathleen's he'd have a drink as he told her how the meeting went. Now was the time to stay focused.

The President handed a glass to Sam and then sat down on the couch across from him. "You look relaxed, Sam. Your time off certainly seems to have helped."

"Yes, Sir," Sam said, then taking a sip from his glass.

"Relax, Sam. I'm not going to yell at you. I'd heard about the incident in Leo's office, but I didn't hear the full story, and Leo certainly never told me you sent in your resignation."

"I was rather upset that day in the airport. All I wanted to do was just get away from everything here."

"Sam, you know nobody around here thinks you can't do the job."

"I'm sorry, Sir, but it doesn't feel that way." He couldn't believe how relaxed he was becoming. 

"Sir, who advised you on Mad Cow last year?"

"Leo, C.J., Toby, Josh and..." the President looked at Sam as if to include him in the list as well.

"No, Sir, I wasn't in on the meeting. I'd just been in here talking to you about the seatbelt lawsuit and as I walked out one door, they all walked in another and you had your meeting. Nobody told me about it. I found out about several weeks later in a Senior Staff meeting when Leo said that the tests had come back negative."

The President leaned against the back of the couch and slowly took a drink from his glass. Sam nervously wiped his free hand against the leg of his Dockers and took a sip of water.

"I don't mean to sound like a petulant child who's come running to tell on everyone else for not being nice to me. It just got to a point where I couldn't keep quiet any longer. I know my role around here is to just take whatever's given to me and not complain. I'm the lone voice of dissention sometimes, and I often get ignored, but I still do it."

"Sam?" the President interrupted, his forehead slightly wrinkled in concern. "Do you really think that's your only role around here?"

"Frankly, Sir, yes. When you wanted to put the cancer initiative into the State of the Union, everyone stood here in this office and told you no."

"But not you."

"Right. And then afterwards, everybody from Toby to Joey Lucas asked me why I would humor you like that and waste my time and all of theirs by actually writing a draft of the section. Toby told me I could only spend ninety minutes on it. I knew when I walked back in here that we couldn't put the section in, but it sure felt nice to write it and think about the possibilities for a moment. I felt like that what I was doing might actually make a difference. I felt a little like I did when I first joined the campaign, and I sure haven't been feeling that lately. Lately, I've felt that every time I open my mouth, people just automatically zone me out and don't even listen."

"I'm sorry, Sam."

"Thank you, but I really don't want your pity, Sir. And I don't want you to feel like you have to smooth things over with the staff for me. If I can't handle things on my own around here, then I _don't_ deserve to work here. I just don't know where I'm supposed to fit in around here, and I don't know if anyone else does either."

Finishing the water in his glass, he set it on the table and settled back against the couch. The President stood up and walked to the side table and refilled his glass. "Sam, I find you a valued advisor. I like hearing all sides of the issues and I want people around me who aren't afraid to speak up."

"Thank you, Mr. President," Sam responded, believing the President was sincere and touched by the statement. Ever since the night of the chess game as they waited for the results to come in from Hartsfield's Landing, he felt that there was at least one person who remembered and valued the contributions he made. "However, I've never really felt like you didn't think I belonged here."

"It's the others," the President finished, as he sat back down.

"Yes," Sam said. "I guess. Honestly, I don't know anymore. I used to think I knew them, that I understood them. Lately, I've felt out of the loop in a lot of different ways."

Sam finished speaking and rubbed his forehead. He was tired. The trip back from Costa Rica, catching up with Kathleen, taking the boat out, and now these meetings. The President saw the exhaustion starting to play across Sam's face and decided to end for the night. Tomorrow he'd talk to Leo, and this would get resolved. He knew he didn't need to step in and fight Sam's fights for him. Simply by Sam speaking up, finally, the others had gotten a real wake-up call in their behavior lately. He was just going to make sure that things didn't get out of hand to this level again.

"So, you look like you got some sun while you were away," he commented with a soft smile. "You know, if Abbey were here, she'd probably give you a lecture on sun exposure and its inherent risks."

"Yeah, I'm sure. I used sunscreen, but being that close to the Equator, I guess my normal stuff just wasn't enough." He leaned back, once again on the couch, his body relaxing.

"So, the volcanoes. Which ones did you see?"

Sam perked up and began telling the President about the one volcano that he got to see. He had plans to see more, but his time got cut short when he talked to Kathleen and realized he better come back to Washington. Plus, there were a couple of wildlife refuges he had looked into and visited, and then of course, there was just the time on the beach relaxing. He had forgotten what it was like to just sit and do nothing for several hours.

Almost half an hour later, Charlie knocked on the door and told the President that Josh was here to see him. Sam's smile immediately fell and he reached for his things and stood up. 

"Yeah, Charlie, send him in in just a minute," the President said as he stood as well.

"Thank you, Mr. President," Sam said.

"See you Monday, Sam," he said. "Take the boat out with Kathleen and spend some time with her. There's nothing here that can't wait until Monday."

"Thank you, Sir," Sam said with a smile.

The door opened again, and Josh walked in, stopping short at the site of Sam. He managed to sputter out a 'good evening' to the President, all the while he couldn't believe that Sam was standing in the Oval Office.

"Sam," he said, a large smile crossing his face. "You're back."

"Yes, Sam is back," the President responded. "And he'll be into work Monday morning. Enjoy your weekend, Sam."

"Thank you, Mr. President. Night, Josh," Sam said, and then turned and headed out of the office.

Chapter 11

Sam was reclining on the couch, half asleep, the remote loosely gripped in his hand, when a light tap at the door roused him. Turning off the TV, he padded across the floor in his bare feet. He opened the door and was already headed to the couch when he said, "Come in, Josh. Kathleen's asleep, so keep your voice down."

Josh closed the door behind him and followed Sam into the living room. Sam had already sat down in the plush leather armchair, so he sat down on the sofa and looked at the man who had worried him greatly this past week. He felt diametrically opposite of Sam, who was in a well-worn T-shirt and faded pajama bottoms, while he was in a rumpled suit and tie. Sam was slouched down in the chair with his head resting on the back, his eyes half-closed; while Josh was perched nervously on the edge of the sofa on a caffeine buzz he wasn't likely to come down from for at least another hour or more.

"Did you want something, Josh? Or were you just planning on staring at me the entire night?" Sam asked casually, shifting in the chair and drawing one leg up underneath him.

"You're back," Josh said, a smaller version of the smile from earlier in the Oval Office, creeping onto his face.

"Yeah, we already covered this tonight."

"When'd you get back?"

"Last night. When I talked to Kathleen and she said all of you wouldn't leave her alone, I figured I better come back. I wanted her to come down and join me, but I knew she couldn't just drop everything like I had. She was being responsible, so it was time for me to stop running from my problems and save her from the wolves."

"The wolves?" Josh asked, a hint of hurt in his voice. "Sam, buddy, what's wrong with you?"

"Don't 'buddy' me," Sam said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "And nothing's wrong with me, I'm just tired of putting up with the way all of you treat me."

"What?"

"Somewhere this year, I've gone from being treated like a member of the staff to someone who's looked on as a joke and sometimes barely tolerated. You sent me away, Josh. The night you all were discussing whether to replace Hoynes on the ticket, and I was off helping him save the Rural Internet Bill, you sent me away without telling me what the meeting was about."

"I told you when you got back," Josh protested.

"Yeah, when you could barely look me in the eye and tell me I _wasn't_ sent away. I can understand you not wanting to be in charge of that meeting, really I can. But can you look me in the eye right now and tell me that if I had been C.J. or Toby you would have done the same thing?"

"What?" Josh yelped and Sam gave him a stern look with a nod of his head toward the bedrooms.

"If Toby or C.J. had been sent to talk to Hoynes, would you have brushed them off so easily or casually when they asked what your meeting was about? Or was it only because it was Sam who was sure to have his usual objections?" Sam asked, sarcasm tingeing his words at the end.

"Sam, I didn't blow you off. I just didn't feel you needed to go into that meeting with Hoynes knowing we would be discussing the possibility of replacing him."

"Would you have done the same with C.J. or Toby?"

"Sam, I swear you're talking in circles here."

"Would you not have told C.J. or Toby? Would you be giving them the same excuses? 'I didn't want you to have that over your head while you were dealing with the Vice-President.' Why does everyone assume that I can't deal with more than one thing at a time? Toby didn't want me to be filled in about the President's MS because I was writing a speech. Turns out the speech wasn't given, so why did it matter?"

Josh slumped back against the couch and ran a hand through his hair. "Sam, how...I swear I just don't even know what to say."

"Yeah, so I guess it doesn't really matter," Sam said as he rubbed the back of his hand across his eye. "So why'd you come here, Josh?"

"I came to see you. To see how you were. I've gotten an earful from Kathleen about how poorly I've treated you."

Sam couldn't help chuckling, "You afraid of my girlfriend?"

"Only when I'm getting chewed out," Josh replied with a smirk. "The usual Lyman charm doesn't seem to work on her."

"No, she's not a member of the fan club," Sam deadpanned. "But she is amazing."

"She must be to put up with the likes of you."

Sam knew the comment was supposed to be an attempt at levity, but he just wasn't there yet with Josh. While they may be talking, he simply didn't feel as close to Josh as he once did. "She grounds me. She's not involved in politics, but she lives in this town and she understands it. She's a lawyer and she knows all about long hours. So when we spend time together we don't waste it."

"Yeah," Josh said softly. "I tried your place first, but you weren't there so I figured you'd be here. You obviously thought I'd be here, 'cause you were waiting up."

"I suspected you'd show up sooner or later. I'm glad it was sooner 'cause we're taking the boat out tomorrow. There's a little marina down in Virginia that we may stop at for the night."

"You two pretty serious?" Josh asked, feeling awkward.

Sam raised an eyebrow curiously at Josh. "Yes, we are. Why?"

Josh shifted on the couch and cleared his throat. "Well, Kathleen was right. I really haven't listened to or talked to you lately. When you left last week I knew enough to call her, but all the time I was talking to her I realized I really didn't know anything about her while she called me on things that happened before you two met."

"So now you're trying to play catch-up?" Sam asked.

"I'm just trying to do better," Josh admitted. "I never really asked you about her."

Sam shrugged and said, "I never really expected you to. We started drifting apart long before I met Kathleen or you met Amy."

"I know," Josh sighed. "How did that happen?"

"I don't know," Sam said with another tired shrug as he leaned forward in his chair. "But I think it's much more complicated than we have time for tonight."

"Yeah, guess you're right," Josh said as he stood up. "So, you'll be back Monday?"

"I will," Sam told him as they neared the door. "The President said to come in then. So I'm going to enjoy this weekend with Kathleen."

Josh paused with his hand on the doorknob, "So we okay?"

"No," Sam answered honestly. "But I hope we will be. I kept it in too long, but now you all know how I feel. It's just not going to get better overnight."

"But we'll work on it," Josh declared.

"I certainly hope so," Sam answered and stepped out into the hallway with Josh. "I'll see you Monday."

"Hang onto a rope, okay?" Josh said in an attempt at humor that fell a little short. "Sam?"

Pausing in the doorway he answered, "Yeah?"

"How come you came in so late to see Leo? If you got back yesterday, how come he didn't have you come in sooner?"

"I quit," Sam answered. "I sent in my cards and he didn't want a reporter or anyone else to see he had to sign me in. He knew that the resignation was an impulse."

Josh stood there as Sam's words registered. Sam had been so upset that he'd quit. The last time Sam quit work and walked away from everything, it had been to join Bartlet For America. Now, he'd quit and walked away from the President and everyone around him. When had everything changed to make him do that?

"Have a nice weekend, Sam," Josh said softly and turned toward the elevator.

"You too, Josh," he answered and stepped back into the apartment. He closed and locked the door and headed into the living room to turn off the light. He stopped when he saw Kathleen curled up on the couch, her feet tucked under her, and her head resting on the high arm of the furniture. Her eyes were closed tight against the light in the room. He turned off the light and made his way to the couch.

"Josh go home?" she murmured sleepily as Sam settled on the couch beside her.

"Yeah, sorry if we woke you," Sam answered as he drew her to his side.

"No, not really. I heard the voices and figured he'd be the only one to stop by."

"Mmm," he murmured as he rested his arm on her waist.

"So, you forgive him?"

"No."

"You going to?" she asked softly as she shifted on the sofa, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Eventually, yeah, I suppose."

"And the others?"

"Yeah, probably them too," he answered through a yawn, nestling himself into the corner of the couch and bringing her with him.

"I'm glad."

"Why?" he asked, a little more alert.

"They're your friends. All of you have forgotten that at times, but you've been through a lot together. I'd hate for you to lose them in your life."

"I guess you're right," he said, settling back down. "But I have you."

"Yes, you do, but you work with _them_ and they see you a lot more than I do."

"I do hate that it's always whose place do we go to. I like being with you, that's why I haven't gone home."

"So don't," Kathleen said softly as sleep began winning. The rhythm of Sam's heartbeat was lulling her back to sleep. "Stay here."

"What?" 

"My place is bigger. Stay here...make it our place."

"You want me to move in?" Sam asked and waited for a reply that was only answered by deep, even breaths. Sam placed a kiss on the top of her head and let the sound of her breathing tug him towards sleep. "Night, Kathleen."

Chapter 12 

"Good morning, Mr. President," Charlie said as he walked into the Oval Office carrying several files.

"Good morning, Charlie,' the President replied enthusiastically. "How are you this fine morning?"

"Pretty good, sir."

"Excellent. Listen, I want you to do something for me."

"Okay, sir," Charlie replied, hoping he didn't sound too wary. 

"I want you to pick a movie for us all to watch this week. Set it up for Wednesday, I don't think we have anything going on then. Don't tell the staff, 'cause I don't want to give Toby any time to come up with an excuse not to go."

The President put on his glasses and walked behind his desk. "Oh, remind me on Monday to tell Sam, though. I want him to bring Kathleen since she wasn't able to come to Abbey's birthday party."

"Yes, sir," Charlie said as he made a note on his planner. "Anything else, Mr. President?"

"Yes, is the staff in yet?" he asked, taking a seat.

"Yes. I believe they're meeting in Leo's office."

"Good. All in one place. Tell them I'd like to see them in five minutes."

"Yes, sir," Charlie said and headed out of the office.

~*~*~

Five minutes later, Leo, Toby, C.J. and Josh entered the Oval Office and stood in front of the President's desk. He ignored them all for a minute while he continued reading through a briefing paper. Finally he looked up at them and took off his glasses.

Getting right down to business he said, "As Leo and Josh know, Sam has returned from Costa Rica. I told him to enjoy this weekend and come back Monday. What only Leo and I know, is that Sam quit after he left last week."

He paused and looked at each person pointedly before continuing. "Leo didn't tell anybody, a point he and I will be discussing later, because he wisely suspected it was an impulse thing. He was going to give Sam a chance to reconsider when he got home."

The President stood up and walked around the desk and behind the others, forcing them to turn around. "I told Sam I won't accept his resignation. I wouldn't accept C.J.'s over her remarks about Haiti; I'm not accepting Sam's. What I will do is this: I don't care how you work it out, but I am telling you now to fix this.

"I simply will not permit the members of my staff to turn on each other like this. Sam is a valued advisor, just like the rest of you, and I want and I need his opinion on matters. For too long this has been going on, and I'm telling you it stops now. How you work it out is your business, unless I see that you are _not_ resolving it. Sam is your co-worker. Remember it and start acting appropriately. The rest of you can go now, Leo, you stay."

"Yes, Mr. President. Thank you, sir," the others said and slowly filed out of the office. By unspoken accord they went to Josh's office and closed the door.

"You knew he was back?" C.J. asked Josh as she sat down on the couch.

"I saw him last night when I went in to talk to the President. He left before I could say something to him."

"You didn't seem surprised when the President said he quit," Toby noted.

"He told me last night when I stopped by to see him."

"How was he?"

"Pretty bitter," Josh said with a sigh. "When he comes back he's gonna have a lot of baggage, but I think he wants to work it out."

"Well, we heard the President," C.J. said. "We better figure out what we're going to do when he comes back."

~*~*~

Kathleen stepped up onto the deck of the boat, pulling her light sweater up around her shoulders. She loved being out on the water. It reminded her of the times her grandfather used to take her sailing. She sat down on the bench by the railing and looked out over the water. It was a clear day, light breeze, gentle swells; things were good today.

They'd gotten off a bit late this morning because of Josh's late night visit, but they weren't in any hurry. Sam knew that when he got back to the White House things were going to be busy. When weren't they busy? After a week and a half of being gone, he was going to be up to his eyes in work. Kathleen was just grateful for the chance to relax after having court last week and trying to fend off Josh and the rest of the staff.

"Well that should..." Sam's words trailed off as he finished adjusting the lines on the sails and looked at her. "What are you wearing?"

Kathleen's eyes glanced up. "A hat."

"Yes," Sam said as he sat down beside her. "I know it's a hat. I bought it for you remember? Course it was meant as a joke."

"But you bought one like this for Bonnie," Kathleen said with mock seriousness. "Are you saying you bought it for _her_ as a joke?"

"You're my girlfriend," Sam said trying to keep a straight face, but unable to keep his eyes off her ridiculous hat. Reaching out he took it off her head; "I bought this as a joke. I didn't know you kept it."

"I found it when I was packing last night," she said with a laugh as she took it from Sam and twirled it with her hands. "You know what I should do? I should send this to my friend Leslie. She could wear it the next time her dad makes mooseburgers."

Sam looked at her with skepticism. "Your friend's father did _not_ eat mooseburgers."

"He really did," Kathleen said. "He grew up in Minnesota, and every year his brother would send him frozen mooseburger patties."

Sam pulled a wry face and Kathleen laughed. "I completely agree. Course it freaked Leslie out when he would make them, because he'd talk like Bullwinkle the whole day."

"Did he make the horns?" Sam asked with a laugh, mimicking the gesture with his hands by his head.

"Every chance he got."

"You're right. You should send it to Leslie," Sam said with a wink.

"I think I will when we get back."

"Speaking of when we get back," Sam said, causing Kathleen to glance at him out of the corner of her eye. "Did you like that segue there? How I took your last statement and pounced on it?"

"Yeah, like a fox on a wounded rabbit," Kathleen said dryly.

"Okay, not the most subtle," Sam admitted, "but I wanted to talk to you about last night."

"What's up?" she asked, stretching out her legs. They looked awfully pale next to Sam's.

"Did you mean it when you asked me to move in?"

Kathleen looked at him and was a little surprised at the concern on his face. "Well...yeah. Look, it was just a thought. We're always complaining about not having all the things we need or are used to. But if you think it's a bad idea or don't want to-"

"No," Sam interrupted. "I'd like to."

"Then why do you look so concerned?"

"Because of your brothers," Sam said with a serious expression. "Your three older brothers who are in the military and could crush me with one hand."

He looked a little green when Kathleen burst out laughing. "You don't want to move in with me because you think my brothers will get into some primeval mindset and beat you up for compromising their sister's virtue?"

"Hey, you didn't see it last month when they cornered me at your grandparents' sixtieth anniversary party and asked what my intentions toward you were."

"Sam," she said trying not to laugh because of the serious look on his face. "It was the first time they'd met you. Sometimes they act a little overprotective, but believe me when I say they've yet to beat up a boyfriend. And before you say it, you won't be the first."

"Well, I'll try and take your word for that," he told her. "But it's not just that."

"Then what is it?" she asked, a little worried by his demeanor.

"This last year...heck, these last two years...have been highly tumultuous, to say the least. Everything going on has left me feeling like I don't know which end is up. All the stuff at work; I just became disillusioned, I felt bitter. Just when I thought things were getting better, that they were actually turning around, then...how could I have been so stupid about Kevin and the tape?"

Sam stood up and paced a short distance away from Kathleen. "Everybody told me not to talk to him, I just wouldn't listen. No wonder everyone views me as nothing more than a stupid buffoon."

"Sam." He looked up as her voice cut through his thoughts.

"I'm sorry, I got a little distracted there. That wasn't what I started out to say."

"Hey, who says we have to talk? Let's just sit here and enjoy this," she said, making a sweeping gesture to the boat and the ocean.

"Counselor, are you trying to misdirect me from my original topic?" he asked, taking a seat beside her once again.

"I'm just trying to keep you from getting wound up tighter than a spring.

"I'm alright. My whole point, before I got a little distracted, was I don't want to just move in together."

"That's fine, Sam," she replied, her voice a little tight. "All you had to do was say that."

"Kathleen, you're not listening. I want to move in together, but I want it to be more than that."

"Okay, Sam, for a man who puts words into the mouth of the President, you're not making much sense right now."

"Last night I told Josh that you grounded me. I feel like I'm finally getting my feet under me again, thanks to you. And I don't mean that in that creepy I'll die without you way, just that you're something special. So if we move in together, I want it to be with the promise that we're serious about our relationship and us."

"I want the same thing."

"Then we agree," Sam said, leaning towards her.

"Absolutely," she said smiling back.

Chapter 13 

"Good morning, Bonnie," Toby said walking into the office.

"Morning, Toby," she said as she reached for his schedule and mail. Then she said softly, while glancing at the office door that was closed, "Toby."

He followed her gaze and noticed the light coming around the edges of the closed blinds. "How long has he been here?"

"I don't know. When I got here twenty minutes ago, it was already like that."

"Thanks, Bonnie," he said taking a step towards the office. "Could you bring us some coffee?"

She nodded and headed off towards the coffeepots. Toby knocked on the door and then turned the doorknob.

~*~*~

"Morning, Toby. Come on in," Sam called as Toby was knocking on the door. He had already saved his work and was just then closing his computer. He'd heard Toby enter the bullpen and knew that soon enough he'd be coming into his office wanting to talk.

Toby closed the door behind him and crossed the room to Sam's desk. Sitting down in a chair in front of it, he noticed the danish on a small plate. "You brought danish?"

"I would have brought some of that coffee from the deli on the corner that you like, but I wasn't sure when you'd get here," Sam said with a hint of a smile.

"I'm kind of surprised you're here already."

"First day back, of course I'm here early. I had to figure out where we were on everything. I know the President's got a speech next week in St. Louis, so I was making an outline for it. Unless you've already done that," Sam hastily added, momentarily losing his confident tone.

"No, I'd like to see it," Toby said. "There's also some stuff with the Everglades we should go over. Since it was your recommendation, I want you overseeing it."

Sam looked like he wanted to break out into a huge, lopsided grin, but he held himself in check. "Thank you."

"Yeah. Leo and I agree you should be in on it," Toby told him.

"Leo?" Sam asked surprised. After their conversation Friday he figured that Leo wouldn't be agreeing to anything like that. Or maybe Leo had changed his mind and just hadn't told Toby yet.

"That's right. We went over it Saturday. He wants to meet with us this morning about it."

"Really?" Sam breathed softly. "Alright, just have Bonnie or Ginger let me know when."

"That's another thing," Toby added. "Bonnie will be bringing in some candidates to replace Cathy. It's time you got your own assistant again, goodness knows you've been without one long enough. Besides, you're always giving mine things to do and that's got to stop."

Sam couldn't help laughing. "Ah, Toby, you do care."

"Yeah. Obviously I'd like that not to get out. People might think I've gone soft or something and then they'll be inviting me to birthday parties and weddings."

"You're secret identity is safe with me, Robin," Sam said with a wink.

"I'm Batman, _you're_ Robin."

"I'm really not," Sam protested.

"Get used to it, 'my little friend.' As long as I'm around as Batman, you'll always be my Robin."

Bonnie knocked at the door and then opened it, bringing in two cups of coffee. She set them down on the desk and then turned to Sam. "Welcome back, Sam."

"Thanks, Bonnie."

"Do you need anything?"

"A copy of my schedule, I know I have one since I was expected back today. Briefing notes on the Everglades and the sugar subsidies, and notes on whatever else I missed while I was gone."

"I'm already working on them. You'll have them in ten minutes."

"Thank you."

She flashed him a warm smile. "Any time."

"Make sure you meet with him later about Cathy's replacement," Toby said around a bite of danish. 

"I will."

"Alright, then that's it," Toby told her.

"Okay," she said and headed towards the door. "Oh, Sam, Charlie called and said the President wants to see you later this morning. He said to stop by after Senior Staff which, by the way, is in 35 minutes.

"Alright," Sam replied, slightly nervous. Meetings with the President, generally never were good.

Bonnie closed the door behind her and Sam turned to Toby. "Listen, about what I said in Leo's office that day, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Toby said. "I want you with a fire in your gut. Yeah, we all treated you bad earlier this year. We should be apologizing to you, not you to us. But I want you to take that fire and put it into the campaign. Kevin Kahn screwed you over. Stay mad. Your idea in New York was great. The way you handled the press; keep that intensity."

"You know? Once again, you're very much freaking me out."

Toby laughed at Sam's bewildered expression. "Did you screw up? Yeah. We've all done it. Let's just go forward. Let's focus on the campaign and get the President re-elected."

Sam smiled. It wasn't a large, confident smile, but it wasn't like the small, feeble ones he'd worn in the past months while trying to convince everyone he was fine. Toby knew that the entire time Sam had been slowly falling apart, he just hadn't realized it. Just as they all watched Josh since his episode a year and a half ago, he knew they'd all be watching Sam for signs of cracks from now on.

"Alright," Sam finally said. "Let's get the President re-elected. But I am sorry for what I said that day."

Toby waved the apology off. "I'm sorry too. Let's try to avoid those things in the future, all right? If word gets out that I'm apologizing..."

"You're secret is safe with me," Sam laughed.

Bonnie knocked again at the door and brought in a stack of papers as she said, "Staff is in twenty-five."

Toby stood up as he said, "Welcome back, Sam. Let's get to work."

"Thanks, Toby," he replied as he reached for his glasses.

"Just a suggestion," Toby said as he paused with his hand on the doorknob. "Take a moment to think about it before you buy a ring."

Sam followed Toby's gaze to the jeweler's brochure he and Kathleen had picked up over the weekend, partially covered by a folder. Sam gave a small chuckle as he reached for the paper. "Don't worry, I already have. Kathleen's already said yes, the ring is a formality."

"Then get her whatever she wants," Toby said with a smile. "And congratulations, Sam."

"Thanks, Toby," he replied as he brushed his fingers over the slick, glossy paper. Then, tucking away the brochure, he picked up the stack of papers Bonnie had given him and set to work.

~*~*~

Sam walked into the bullpen carrying a carton of food. Ginger had offered to get him something from the mess, but after sitting at his desk non-stop since Senior Staff and the brief meeting with the President, and he'd needed to stretch his legs. It'd been a non-stop series of meetings and phone calls and he was looking forward to just a few minutes alone to eat his lunch. He also needed to call Kathleen to make sure she cleared Wednesday night for a movie at the White House. She'd been to the White House before, but she'd never met the President. This would be fun.

"Hey, C.J." he said a bit surprised as he walked into his office and found her waiting. With a laugh he added, "Whatever it is, I didn't do it. It was Josh or Toby. Unless of course it was good, in which case I'll take full credit."

C.J. laughed and shook her head. "Relax, Samuel. Nothing's wrong. I just came by to talk to you."

"Oh, alright. Mind if I eat my lunch? I've got a meeting with Congresswoman Ryan in half an hour and I've still got some briefing notes to go over."

"That's fine," she said, brushing the hair out of her eyes. "It's good to see you back."

"I have to say, it's good to be back. Costa Rica was nice, but I kinda missed this place."

"You did not," she said with a chiding look.

"Not at first," he admitted. "But I've become used to the meetings, and the hustle and bustle, and by the end I realized I did miss it. Remember when we first started here and we were all so excited?"

"It seems like a hundred years ago," she said wistfully. "Especially with the shootings, the hearings, the deaths."

Sam looked at her, his eyes meeting hers, volumes passing between them. Sadly he agreed, "I know. That's a part we never thought we'd have. But we have re-election coming up."

Her eyes brightened slightly. "I am looking forward to it. Putting our message out there; it feels like a chance to start over. Not really a clean slate, but wiping a lot of the bad stuff off."

"It does feel that way, doesn't it?" Sam agreed, before putting a forkful of pasta salad in his mouth.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Me too," he cut in. "So let's just go forward from here."

"You got it, Spanky."

"Could we lose the Spanky, please?"

"Nope," C.J. smirked. "I better go. You've got your meeting with the congresswoman, and I've got some press stuff to take care of."

Sam nodded his head as he smiled. "All right. You go do that *stuff*."

C.J. stopped in the doorway and turned around, her hand resting on the frame. "I'm glad you're back, Sam. And it's good to see your smile again."

"Thanks, C.J.," he said as she smiled and then headed back to her office.

~*~*~

Late that evening, Sam gently slipped the key in the lock and opened the door. The day had been long, grueling, and yet inexplicably exhilarating. Maybe it was like what he and C.J. had discussed; the upcoming election gave them a chance to do it all over again. Hopefully they wouldn't make the same mistakes they'd made the first time, and they could take their experience from the past three and a half years to wage a good campaign. All he knew was that even though he'd been so busy that parts of the day were a blur, he still felt really good. He felt excited about the future.

Walking into the living room, he dropped his coat over the back of the chair and quickly slipped off his tie and dropped it on his coat. The lights were still on and he saw Kathleen's shoes discarded by the den, but he knew she could have just left the lights on for him.

"Oh good, you're here. You can eat while the food's hot," Kathleen said as she walked in from the kitchen.

Sam turned around and grabbed a styrofoam container from her. "Did you just get home?"

She sighed tiredly. "Yeah, I am so tired, but I'm famished."

"So Mexican food at one in the morning sounded good?" he laughed as they sat down on the couch.

"Don't worry, I didn't buy anything really spicy, but I did get the chicken enchiladas you like."

"Extra sour cream?" he asked as they opened the lids and he took the fork she handed him.

"All the extra sour cream your heart could desire."

Later, as they leaned back against the couch, empty containers and glasses littering the coffee table, Sam put his arm around Kathleen's shoulder and pulled her to his side. She languidly snuggled closer, tucking her feet underneath a cushion. He muted the TV, just watching the CNN update ticker scroll across the bottom of the screen.

Life was improving, and he was cautiously optimistic about the future. Kathleen certainly was one of the best things to come his way in a long time. As he looked around the apartment, he could easily see his things fitting in seamlessly. Blending so that it was no longer his things and hers, but decidedly theirs.

More than anything though, he was happier about work. He was hopeful that after a year of fragmentation, disillusionment and lost paths, the staff was finally coming back together. He anticipated his place at work for the first time in a very long while. He'd been unhappy for so long, but he had held his bitter and poisonous feelings inside, rather than addressing the people with whom he was truly angry.

He remembered back in high school, he'd gone to some conference for club officers and student leaders. One of the workshops had been on self-esteem and personal interactions. A guidance counselor a guidance counselor gave the class, and one of the points he had really tried to make was that hate and negativity were more damaging to the person who felt them than they were to the person who caused them. Sam and his friends had laughed at the cute little catchphrases and the man's soft-spoken but earnest demeanor, but now he understood.

He'd been so bitter and angry, but nobody else knew. He'd smiled and carried on as usual while all the time he'd been falling apart. Keeping things hidden so well, only once in a while showing a crack in the façade, until one day he couldn't take it any long and he blew like a pressure cooker. He knew he couldn't do that again.

Sam knew he had to not let things get to that level. His co-workers and friends wouldn't let him keep everything locked inside, and neither would Kathleen. He squeezed her closer to his side and smiled in contentment as she murmured sleepily. Yes, the cracks in his foundation would always be there, but he was now repairing them instead of covering them up. As he turned off the TV and pulled the blanket over him and Kathleen, he knew that he could survive with a few imperfections. What didn't break him would only make him stronger, and he felt stronger every day.


End file.
